kakashi mission part 1 by JBMcDragon

Topic started by maria137b on May 6, 2009. Last post by maria137b 5 years, 11 months ago.
Post by maria137b (1 posts) See mini bio Level 4

Part One
Then (as in, before 'Now.' But not by much.)

"You asked for me, Hokage-sama?" Iruka said, bowing.

Tsunade looked up, then waved a hand at him to sit. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Do you know Hatake Kakashi?"

"The Copy Ninja? Of course. He's teaching--was teaching--um. I mean, yes." He settled himself in a chair on the other side of the massive desk and continued to look uneasy.

"Right. Well." Tsunade shuffled papers and wondered, exactly, how she was going to go about this. "I have a strange mission for you," she said finally, "and I can't explain it. You're welcome to decline it, however." She wasn't about to tell him about the files she'd found that the former Hokage had compiled on all the ninja, or how alarming Kakashi's had been, complete with notes from the Third that simply made it worse.

Not that Jounin were known for being very stable anyway, but none of the others had just lost their first Genin team to Orochimaru or other sensei.

"I . . . I would be honored, Hokage-sama. What's the mission?"

"You can't tell anyone about it," Tsunade warned. "Especially not Kakashi."

Iruka's eyes widened. "All right."

"I want you to watch over him."

As expected, he looked confused. Iruka started to rub the scar across his nose, then stopped self-consciously. "Hatake Kakashi? Why?"

Tsunade steepled slender fingers and stared at him.

"Oh. Right. You can't explain it." Iruka thought about that for a moment. "Why me?" he asked finally.

She smiled. "You're a teacher."

He stared at her.

"You know how to handle people who don't necessarily want to be where they are."

"And is Kakashi-san going to be somewhere he doesn't want to be?" Iruka asked cautiously.

"No. Well, yes. Rather, he won't be doing what he wants to do." Tsunade cringed inwardly. She couldn't really have made that more confusing if she'd tried. "That is, he won't be going on any ANBU missions any time soon."

"And . . . he wants to?" Iruka asked.

"I'm guessing he will want to soon, yes."

"But he can't?" Iruka was obviously looking for the reason without asking.

Tsunade just looked at him.

Iruka thought about it for a little while again. "I don't think I can tail him without being noticed."

Tsunade knew he couldn't, and guessed Iruka knew it as well. She sat back, waving a hand at the details. "So don't try and tail him. Make friends or something. That's up to you."

Iruka nodded slowly. "Very well."

Tsunade gave a silent sigh. That was good. One problem down, twelve hundred more to deal with before the day was out. She could already see Shizune hovering in the doorway with more papers to sign. "Thank you, Iruka. You're dismissed."

He stood, bowed, and walked quickly away.


Gai looked up from his tedious job to see Iruka standing before him, glancing around the open field. Gai dropped the daisy chain and stood, beaming. He liked Iruka-sensei. He liked pretty much everyone, though, so it wasn't saying much.

"Iruka-sensei!" he bellowed. "So good to see you! What can I do for you on this beautiful day, filled with the romance of spring and--"

"I've been talking to some people," Iruka interrupted, "and they say you're probably the closest to Hatake Kakashi. I was hoping you could give me some information."

Gai's arms fell. He thought about it. The wind picked up, tugging at Iruka's ponytail and tossing leaves. "Why do you need information on my most esteemed rival?" he asked.

"Well . . . it's . . . you see--I, uh, just wanted to talk to him. But I didn't know what to talk about. Or even how to find him." Iruka, Gai noticed, was turning pink.

"Ahhhh. You have an infatuation. How sweet! Springtime in the Land of the Leaves strikes again! Flowers bloom and hearts flutter!" Distantly, he thought he heard Iruka saying, "No! Nothing like that! Nonono!" but he didn't really pay attention until Iruka grabbed his arm and pulled.

He looked down. And smiled. "I will surely help you, great teacher of my beloved students!"

"Thank you, Gai-san," Iruka sighed.

"What is it you would like to know about my worthy rival?"

"Well, I'm not sure, exactly," Iruka said slowly, brown eyes thoughtful. "I suppose I just need something to talk to him about."

"Ah," Gai said knowingly, bushy eyebrows lifting in understanding. "He likes the Icha Icha Paradise books."

Iruka turned bright red. "Everyone knows that. I'd rather not talk to him about those."

"Ah." Gai thought some more. "He enjoys a good romp."

Iruka turned even brighter red. "I'm not interested in him in that way, Gai-san."

Gai looked at him quizzically. "I meant a battle."

Iruka turned nearly purple. "Of course. Um. So did I."

Gai smiled. "Ah, some of our best romps have occurred in the springtime, when the flowers are in bloom and the blood boils hot in our veins! When romance is in the air and young people are frolicking about! That is when Kakashi and I are at our best, when we get together so we can--"

A choked noise stopped him. The music fell silent, and Gai looked down.

"Iruka-sensei? Are you all right?" He looked a little . . . pained. Gai looked him over, but the smaller man didn't seem to have any injuries.

Iruka nodded. "Maybe I'll just think of something on my own. Do you know where I could find him, Gai-san?"

"Often, his apartment. Or the monument, in the mornings."

Iruka nodded and gave a short bow. "Thank you."

"Iruka," Gai said as the other man turned to leave, "I should warn you. He isn't like the rest of us." He looked around, then leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "He doesn't really have many social skills."

Iruka nodded once and left.

"I have social skills," Kakashi said from behind the tree, sounding bemused.

Gai lowered himself back to the ground, leaning back against the massive trunk. "Not really," he responded amiably. "And you're also very arrogant."

"Just realistic," Kakashi muttered.

Gai ignored him. "Now, worthy opponent! I shall braid a longer daisy-chain necklace than you before the sun is directly above us!"

Kakashi held one around the trunk of the tree. It dangled from a single slender finger. "Mine's already a foot long."

"I will do it, or I will run five hundred laps around Konoha, backwards!"


There was another knock at the door. Kakashi looked up at the clock. Sure enough, it was 5:00. There had been a knock at the door at 5:00 for the last three nights.

Normally, he ignored it, and Iruka eventually went away. He supposed he should throw the man a bone, though. Or at least find out why he was being stalked. Maybe Iruka did have an infatuation, and they could have a lot of sex.

With that firmly in mind, Kakashi unfolded from his chair, setting his book down on the little table, and walked to the door. He opened it and stared out.

Iruka jumped and looked up at him, brown eyes wide. "Oh! Uh, Kakashi-san! I was, um, just, ah, passing through and--"

"You pass through here every night at five?" Kakashi asked reasonably, slouching against the door, his hands in his pockets.

Iruka turned red. "Oh. Well. I thought you weren't home."

Kakashi just smiled.

Iruka turned redder.

There was something very satisfying about watching the younger man get flustered. He really supposed he shouldn't do it on purpose, but it was so fun.

"Genma-san just came back from a mission, and he saw Naruto and Jiraiya-sama while he was out. I thought you might want to hear their progress," Iruka said, rubbing at the long scar across his face. He smiled hesitantly.

Actually, he did want to hear how Naruto was doing. He crossed his ankles and smiled again, waiting.

Iruka looked at him.

He looked back, leaning against the door.

"May I come in?" Iruka asked finally. "Or would you like to go out somewhere, perhaps?"

Kakashi paused. Letting Iruka in meant letting Iruka into his apartment. Or, rather, his apartment. "Let's go get ramen," he suggested, feeling brilliant (he was, after all, a genius). He turned to get his shoes, then looked back. "Stay here," he said.

Iruka looked confused.

Kakashi ignored it and got his shoes.


Iruka never did figure out how Kakashi managed to eat his ramen without once showing his face. It wasn't that the man avoided it, exactly. More like, as casual as he was, something always got in the way when he took the mask down--or pulled it up, since Iruka wasn't sure which he did.

Either way, the Chuunin tried not to think about it too much.

"It's good to know Naruto's doing well," Kakashi was saying, leaning back in his chair. His single blue eye cast absently around the restaurant, and Iruka couldn't help but wonder what patterns the Jounin noticed that he didn't even see.

"Yes. And I hear Sakura's training is coming along nicely," Iruka added as an afterthought.

Kakashi nodded, watching a couple sitting across the room. He itched absently at the edge of his forehead protector, then re-settled it slanted across his face. "They have good teachers."

Iruka looked at him. "They did before, too."

Kakashi glanced over, then smiled. His single visible eye crinkled, and Iruka thought he could just see the movement of his cheeks behind the mask. "This was fun, Iruka-sensei. Thank you."

Iruka found himself grinning back. If he were to tell the truth, he'd enjoyed himself more than he'd expected. Mostly, they'd just talked about Naruto. Kakashi had some stories about the boy that Iruka hadn't heard, and Iruka knew all the old stories that hadn't made it as far as the Copy-Ninja.

They paid their bill and swung out of the little ramen shop, wandering back down the street. Kakashi's hands were in his pockets, and he meandered almost aimlessly, peering into darkened store windows as they passed.

"What will you do now that you don't have--" Iruka stopped. It hadn't occurred to him that this might be a sore topic.

But the eye was crinkled again, and Kakashi only shrugged. "Back to training, I suppose."

"Training?" Iruka asked. "You train?" Of course he trained, you idiot, he thought to himself. Everyone trained.

Still, it somehow seemed that Sharingan Kakashi shouldn't have to do something as mundane as train.

"I've been on easy missions lately," Kakashi said conversationally. "If I'm going to get back into ANBU, I need to polish my skills."

Iruka suddenly remembered what the Hokage had said, and wondered if he should warn Kakashi.

Easier to let the Hokage do it.

"Do the ANBU train somewhere particular?" Iruka asked, half holding his breath. Everyone knew the ANBU had to train somewhere, but most people didn't even know which of their Jounin *were* ANBU, much less where they trained.

"Mmm," Kakashi said noncommittally. He smiled behind the mask. "Would you like to see?"

Iruka tried not to bounce in his excitement. He tried to play it cool. By the growing smile on Kakashi's face, he failed miserably. "That would be fun." He didn't manage to stop grinning like a fool.

Oh well. No one had ever said he was good at faking. Anything.


Kakashi picked him up at lunch the next day, and carried him, blindfolded, to the ANBU training site.

It was in the forest, outside the village--which wasn't much of a surprise, really. Small animals hid themselves, knowing danger when they saw it, and the large old trees stood guard over the training ninja. Forms and shapes flickered across a small meadow, men and women stretching or checking equipment before they started.

"Why do you all wear masks while training?" Iruka asked, steadying himself against the tree trunk and ignoring the fact that Kakashi was putting on his own hard, painted mask. He knew the masks were to protect the ninja's identities from both enemies and their fellow ninja--who tended to be wary of the ANBU--but it seemed strange that they were hiding from each other.

"To get used to it. It affects your breathing, hearing, and sight," Kakashi answered, voice muffled even farther than usual by the faceplate. "Also, so people who stumble onto the site don't recognize anyone."

Iruka thought the other man might have smiled again, but couldn't really be sure. Then Kakashi was gone, melting into the forest with the other masked ghosts.

It was both one of the most beautiful and one of the most terrifying things Iruka had ever seen. Like watching a tiger stalk its prey, all sleek grace and fluid movements, shifting almost faster than the eye could follow, and knowing while you watched them that you could be lunch. They moved like dancers, twisting and shifting, missing each other or connecting and spinning away.

It didn’t take long to lose Kakashi. Iruka didn't mind. This was something that few people ever saw, and he suspected he wasn't supposed to. Not that Hatake Kakashi ever paid attention to the rules.

For a moment there was a flash of metal, crystal bright, and then it was gone. Another and another, and the tink of kunai hitting kunai. The rest of the world was silent, watching.

It was nearly an hour before Iruka remembered he still had classes to teach.

"Kakashi?" he whispered, afraid to break the silence, superstitious about attracting the attention of one of the wraiths dancing through the trees.


Iruka jumped and twisted, only to come face to mask with a man he assumed had to be the Copy-Ninja. His heart stuttered back to beating.

"You scared me," he said, and only then realized it was probably needless.

Kakashi removed the faceplate, exposing his sweat-soaked hair and cloth mask, and smiled. "Sorry."

"I have to get back to class," Iruka pointed out.

Kakashi nodded, held up the blindfold, and waited while Iruka put it on. It seemed silly to him, but then, ANBU couldn't be too careful. As soon as it was tight, Kakashi lifted him (and it was just a little embarrassing how easily he did that) and they were running through the trees, back to the village proper.


Evening was falling, making the sky turn pink and purple over the treetops. Iruka leaned back in the porch chair and watched.

His befriending of Kakashi was going fairly well, he thought. He still didn’t understand why the Hokage had asked him to do it, and he was a still a little in awe of the Copy-Ninja, but overall, things seemed to be progressing nicely.

The door opened and closed again, and Kakashi wandered out onto the communal apartment porch, holding a tray with tea settings for two in one hand. He set it down on the front rail, then hopped up on the side. Leaning back against the wall of the building, legs stretched out in front of him, Kakashi somehow managing to sprawl despite the fact that the rail was less then four inches wide.

"Nice night," Iruka said, settling back after pouring himself tea. Kakashi apparently didn't take playing host that far.

Kakashi 'Hmmm'ed and tucked both hands behind his head, staring up.

"Do you ever take the mask off?" Iruka asked, watching the other man out of the corner of his eye. He wished he could move like that. At least, he could console himself with the fact that half the other Jounins didn't move like that, either.

"Of course."

Iruka watched him for a moment more. "When?" he asked finally.

Kakashi grinned down at him. "When I shower."

That was it? When he showered? "What about when you sleep?" Iruka prodded.

Kakashi shrugged.

"Is there a reason you don't take it off?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi shrugged again.

Iruka sighed and settled back against his chair once more. It shifted under his weight, worn and old. One of the men who lived in Kakashi's building waved as he went past them. Kakashi ignored him, so Iruka waved back. It seemed polite.

"How's the training going?" Iruka asked as the silence stretched.

"Oh, it's training. Going well."

Iruka didn't ask about the bulk around one of Kakashi's ankles. He probably didn't want to know about injuries received in ANBU training.

"Iruka?" Kakashi asked.

Iruka looked up.

"Why, exactly, are you following me? Gai seems to think you have a crush, but--" Iruka didn't manage to strangle back his "Huh?" and Kakashi stopped.

The Chuunin was pretty sure his face was purple from blood rushing upward. "I do not have a crush!" he ground out. "It just so happens," he said between his teeth, "that I thought we might be friends. Naruto spoke highly of you." Iruka refused to look at Kakashi. He could feel the other man laughing silently at him. He wasn't going to look. He wasn't. Damn Kakashi. He needed to change the subject. Quickly. "Why did you leave ANBU, if you want to join back up?"

Kakashi stared at him for a moment more, then finally--finally!--turned away. "Oh, the Third and I thought it would be a good idea to take a break."

They sat in silence for a while. Iruka sipped tea, watching people walk past the little building. Kakashi's eye was closed, his hands linked behind his head and making a worse mess of his hair than it already was. A child skipped by, kicking up dust. It spread lazily through the air.

"Gai's pretty sure you have a crush on me," Kakashi said.

Iruka coughed his tea all over the porch. "Gai thinks Inuzuka Kiba has a crush on Akamaru, so his opinion isn't necessarily the most authoritative," he snapped.

He could feel Kakashi looking at him again, as he mopped up spat tea. "Or, there's something going on with the Inuzuka clan that's verrrrry interesting."

Iruka froze. Then he turned to glare up at Kakashi.

Kakashi was grinning. Even through the mask, he could see it.

"I'm going home now," Iruka muttered, and, as quickly as he could, he did exactly what he'd said.


Chapter seven

"So, can he cook?" Genma asked, wandering into the mission office.

"Why are you here?" Iruka asked, rubbing his eyes. "You don't work here. I know you have missions. You must have somewhere to go home to."

Genma grinned around his toothpick. "Everyone comes through here eventually. It's the perfect place to be."

Iruka sighed and gave into the inevitable. "Yes. He can cook."

"And you had fun last night?"

"Yes. We had fun."

"Not too much fun, I hope," Genma said, grinning again.

Iruka only glared at him.

Genma sobered. "All right, what's wrong?"

Iruka paused, not really sure if he wanted to share this. It seemed silly. "Everyone is taking this whole me liking men thing really well," he said finally. "I mean, this is a big realization for me. It's just so . . . so . . . anti-climactic."

Genma laughed. "That's because we already knew. Mizuki--"

"Yeah, I know," Iruka muttered. He stared down at the school forms, still vaguely annoyed.

Genma hopped onto the desk, leaning back on his hands. "Besides, he told us about both times."

"Both times?" Iruka squeaked. "There was only the once!"

"Mizuki said you were on a mission together--"

"That doesn't count," Iruka snapped. "We didn't get very far--" he stopped. Genma was laughing.

"And you didn't realize you liked men earlier?" the Special Jounin crowed.

Iruka folded his arms over his chest and glared at nothing.

Genma kept laughing. And laughing. And then he finally stopped, but when he looked at Iruka, he started laughing again.

Tsunade walked in the door and stopped dead. "Something funny?" she asked after a minute.

"Iruka--Iruka--he says he didn't know he was gay, even though he practically had sex with Mizuki in a tree--"

"We didn't practically have sex," Iruka ground out. His face was burning. He was going to kill someone. Mizuki had been a mistake. A really bad mistake, starting from the first day they'd met. He just hadn't realized it at the time.

"You practically had sex--" Genma laughed. "Mizuki told me in detail--"

Iruka stood up, grabbed his bags, and headed for the door. Tsunade was still watching them.

"--said the bark was really uncomfortable--"

"Can I help you, Tsunade-sama?" he asked politely, trying to ignore the fact that his face was nearly purple.

"--and Iruka says he didn't know--"

Tsunade handed him a satchel of mission scrolls. "If you'd hand these out to the appropriate people?"

He nodded and took them.

"--didn't know!"

Tsunade looked at Genma, then back at Iruka. "You're gay?"

Iruka's lips thinned down to a line. "Apparently."


"He's seeing Kakashi," Genma managed.

Iruka turned to glare at the Special Jounin. He was sitting on the floor, holding his stomach, and when he looked at Iruka he started laughing again. "How could you not know?"

"What's going on?" Kurenai asked, pausing in the doorway.

"Nothing," Iruka ground out.

"We're watching Genma be hysterical over Iruka's apparent obliviousness," Tsunade said.

"I wasn't oblivious," Iruka said through clenched teeth. "I just didn't know I liked men."

"After having sex with Mizuki in a tree," Tsunade added.

"We didn't have sex!" Iruka shouted.

"Who?" Asuma asked, walking up and stopping beside Kurenai. "You and Kakashi?"

"You had sex with Kakashi?" Shizune asked.

This couldn't possibly get worse. Why was it, Iruka wondered, that people always arrived at the worst times? Like some sort of strange summoning technique. The slightest bit of gossip, and there were people everywhere. "I haven't had sex with anyone!" he yelled, frustrated.

"Guess dinner didn't go as well as it could have," Asuma murmured. Kurenai elbowed him, and Iruka gave her a grateful look.

"Not with anyone? He's a virgin?" someone--he thought it was Shizune--said quietly.

He couldn't win. He really couldn't. And with everyone crowding the hall, he couldn't even escape.

"Who's a virgin?" asked an overly familiar voice.

Iruka turned still redder and dropped his head. He was not even going to look up. He really, really wasn't.

"Iruka is," Tsunade said. "So be nice, Kakashi."

"Hey," he said calmly, "I wouldn't take advantage. Don't know why you assume I would . . ."

Iruka felt Kakashi stop in front of him. He still didn't look up. "Hi," he muttered.

"Iruka, you look sunburned again."

Iruka moved his eyes, but not his head, glaring up at Kakashi from under his brows.

Kakashi was looking into the mission office, though, at Genma, who was still on the floor. Kakashi sauntered in, and knelt in front of the other man. He looked back over his shoulder, single eye half-lidded. "Is he troubling you?"

"Just teasing," Iruka sighed.

Kakashi nodded. Then he looked back at Genma, who had stopped laughing (though not smirking) and said, "Remember that mission we were on, together? The one with Inuzuka Tsume? And her dog?" The last words were stressed, and Kakashi smiled brightly. "Remember that night--"

"Uh, yeah," Genma said, smirk gone. "Thanks. I remember." The toothpick flicked from one side to the other.

Kakashi nodded happily and stood. "Now--Tsunade? You asked to see me?"


Kakashi left the Hokage's office with his mission scroll in hand, and headed to the main office. He poked his head inside, where Genma was flipping through files.

"Iruka?" Kakashi asked.

"Went outside," Genma answered, without turning.

Kakashi nodded and headed out.

Iruka was sitting in the grass under a tree, stacks of paper around him held down by rocks.

"Yo," Kakashi said, stopping in front of the Chuunin.

Iruka looked up, lifting one hand to shade his eyes. He smiled. "Hello, Kakashi."

Kakashi put his hands in his pockets, unsure now what he should say. He felt he should say something. This hadn't been so hard the day before, when Iruka had gone to his apartment for dinner.

Iruka saved him. "Thank you for stopping Genma. I appreciated that."

Which only reminded him of overhearing that Iruka hadn't had sex, which he was trying not to think about. "You're welcome," he said, battling back the urge to say something that would make the younger man blush. It was just so funny to make people squirm. But he was trying to be charming. Or something like that.

They stared at each other a moment more.

"You have a mission?" Iruka asked finally.

Kakashi nodded. "I'll probably be gone a few days."

"All right. Be careful."

Kakashi's mind stopped, for just an instant. He couldn't remember the last time someone had told him to be careful. Rin, maybe. And before her--no one he could think of. "All right," he said finally. "I will."

Iruka just nodded and smiled, like he hadn't just said something shocking.

After a moment, Kakashi wandered away.


"What is wrong with you?" Genma asked, astounded and horrified.

Iruka hid his face. Looking back on it, sneaking into Genma's apartment and putting itching powder in his shaving cream really hadn't been the most mature thing to do. It had been something he would have done years ago. He just couldn't help it. After listening to Genma call him "virgin-boy" and "oblivious-man" for the last two days, it seemed only fair.

He glanced up at the Special Jounin. The man's jaw was bright red. Iruka smirked, then told himself he shouldn’t be laughing at another's pain, and returned to staring at his hands. "Sorry, Genma," he said contritely.

"No, you're not!" Genma yelped.

Iruka couldn't hide the smile this time, though he did smother it as quickly as he could.

"You are a truly sick individual, Iruka!" Genma said.

Iruka stared at the mission office doorway, wishing someone would come by. Maybe Tsunade could give him more work, or--

A small dog in a blue vest went racing by the door, a scroll clamped in its jaws.

Iruka frowned. That wasn't Akamaru, and the only other person he knew of that could summon dogs--

He stood and hurried to the doorway. The dog had vanished into the Hokage's office. A moment later, Tsunade opened the door, following the pug out. "Iruka," she said, stopping dead. The scroll was in her hand, her fist tight. "Get a medic. Follow Pakkun--he'll take you to Kakashi."

"Hurry up, kid," the dog said, and started to run.


He couldn't be hurt. He couldn't. Rumors said Sharingan Kakashi never got hurt.

The three of them ran through the forest, two men following a pug in ninja clothes. Pakkun had given them the basics; the scroll Kakashi had stolen contained plans for an attack on an allied village. The attackers realized he had it long before they should have, and while he managed to make it most of the way back, a group of them--a squad of twenty Chuunin--had caught up.

Kakashi wasn't dead. Beyond that, Pakkun couldn't be sure how he was doing.

Iruka ran, searching for signs of enemies as he kept up with the medic and the dog. They passed from shadow to light and back again, the forest dim even in mid-afternoon. The three of them were breathing hard, air rasping through lungs. Pakkun scratched the trees, sending leaves and bark and moss scattering down to the forest floor.

Ninja got hurt on missions all the time. Iruka repeated that, trying to make this real. But it couldn't be Kakashi. Kakashi was supposed to be invincible.

"Here!" Pakkun called, and with a flurry of claws and bark, he was up into an ancient tree. Boughs hung, darkening the interior, creating a perfect hiding place.

Iruka jumped, propelling himself up. He flew through a shaft of light, and then into the darkness of the canopy. Birds hushed at his passing, or darted quickly out of the way.

He nearly stepped on the body. Iruka tripped, caught himself, and knelt, eyes looking everywhere but at the man before him. No signs of the enemy.

The medic landed beside him. Put a hand on the Jounin.

Iruka looked.

The man lay on a branch on his stomach, curled slightly. He was breathing. Blood soaked his shirt, soaked the branch. The moss squelched.

Iruka's heart hammered into his throat. Silver hair. Silver hair that was normally bright and shining, and was now matted with blood. What he could see of Kakashi's face was smeared with it. Iruka tore his eyes away, straining to listen for sounds of pursuers, of anyone moving around below. His job was to keep them safe, and he couldn't do it while staring at the fallen Jounin. He couldn't do it if he panicked.

Iruka breathed carefully, trying to measure each one. Leaves twisted, turning long strands of ivy that hung down into the darkness. One of them glimmered red in the half-light, and Iruka looked away again.

"Nothing's broken," the medic said softly. "They got some fairly major veins, though he bandaged them before he passed out."

Relief shuddered through Iruka. Nothing broken. Blood loss. Blood loss could be bad, but--Kakashi was breathing.

"We have to get him to the hospital," the medic said. "I can't treat him here."

Iruka nodded, silent. "Take him. I'll watch for followers."


The Jounin had spent three hours in the operating room, while they repaired internal damage, stopped the bleeding, and transferred enough blood to keep his organs functioning.

Iruka waited through all of it, but not inside. He sat on a ledge around the building, peering in through a window. He couldn't stand hospitals. Not since he was a child. Not since his parents died.

So he sat on the ledge and peered in the window, and only when they put Kakashi in a normal room did he enter.

They let him see the other man almost immediately, but warned him Kakashi wouldn’t wake for another few hours. Possibly longer.

Iruka stood beside the bed, watching the slender chest rise and fall. The doctors had pulled the mask down far enough to expose his nose--or, more likely, they'd pulled it off but replaced it--and tubes threaded into him, bringing extra oxygen and who knew what else.

He was very small.

They were nearly the same height, but Kakashi--he looked like a strong breeze might blow him away.

Eventually, Iruka touched him. Just the back of his hand. To see that he was real.

He was cold. Iruka sat down on the edge of the bed, putting Kakashi's hand in both of his and rubbing.

Kakashi's hands were longer. Slender, almost bony, fingers stretched beyond Iruka's grip. His skin, normally pale, was now so white Iruka could easily make out blue veins threading underneath.

He tried hard to ignore it. Everything would be okay. Kakashi was fine. Just needed to rest.

Long ago . . .

"I don't want my son--"

"He's my son too, Li," Sakumo snapped.

Kakashi tried to sink smaller on the floor, tucked into the corner. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want them to fight.

"Do you have any idea what will happen? He's only five!" his mother shouted, enraged.

"He's a genius! A genius unlike anyone has seen since the Sannin! You can't honestly expect him to wait until he's older--"

"I can wait," Kakashi offered, nearly trembling. "I can wait. I won't do anymore ninja things." He should have known not to do them in the house. He'd broken the lamp, and now everyone was so angry . . .

"Kakashi, why don't you go to your room for a little while," his mother said without looking at him.

"Please don't fight," Kakashi murmured. "I won't be a ninja until it's okay--"

"Kakashi," his father said softly. "Let us talk about this, all right?"

He wilted. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, and shuffled out of the room. He stood in the hall, though, listening.

"I do not want Kakashi to join the academy." It was his mother. She had to be angry about the lamp. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't break anything else, but they'd asked him to go to his room . . .

"Why not?" his father said, sounding like he was hurt. "He's brilliant!"

"That's the problem, Sakumo. He's brilliant. Do you know what happens to brilliant ninja? They test out early. I was a Chuunin at ten. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, much less my own son. I won’t have it."

Kakashi curled down by the wall, hugging his knees. He hated it when people were angry. He could feel something in the air, pressing against him. It hurt.

When his father spoke, there was steel in his voice. "You're being ridiculous. He'll be fine. I've already enrolled him--"

"You did what? How could you do that? You know how I feel about this!"

"You were on a mission and enrollment was due. He's a genius, Li! He's going to learn whether you want him to or not! Better he learn at the academy, under someone's tutelage!"

"He'll have no one to talk to because he'll be too young, and he'll get hurt!"

Kakashi put his hands over his ears, hiding his face. He wished he were normal. Then they wouldn't fight. It was all his fault.

"He won't get hurt, he'll be at the acade--"

"And when he graduates? What then? What happens--"

Kakashi got up. The air was too heavy, and filled with color. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn't do anything, and it was all his fault. He ran out the door, into the yard, and heard behind him, "--I want my son to be safe!"


When Iruka saw Kakashi awake for the first time after a full day of unconsciousness, he couldn't hold back his smile.

The man had his mask all the way up again, and he was leaning heavily against the doorframe, talking to a nurse.

"You may not leave, Kakashi-san," the woman was saying, standing firmly in Kakashi's path. "You can go lay back down and stay there while you regain some strength."

"But there's nothing wrong with me," Kakashi said persuasively. "Really. I'm just a little tired."

Iruka paused, and then went in search of a doctor. It took a few minutes, and he had to wait while the man finished something, but eventually they were able to talk.

"How is Hatake Kakashi?" Iruka asked quietly. "If he's able to go home, he would rest better." From what he'd seen in the doorway, with Kakashi still so pale he was almost blue and looking like he could be knocked over by Pakkun, and yet still obviously determined to leave, Iruka had the impression that the Jounin wasn't going to stay peacefully.

The doctor sighed and cleaned his glasses before settling them back on his face. "Kakashi is weak. The blood loss was fairly extreme; we saved his organs, so there was mostly only minor damage, but his body needs time to replenish. He's going to be sleeping quite a bit over the next few days, even with his advanced chakra. Furthermore, I don't know if he'll be functional enough to take care of himself."

Just then, Kakashi walked past the door wearing a lab coat and pushing an empty gurney.

"Excuse me," Iruka said, stepping out of the little exam room they were in. He followed Kakashi for a few steps. "Going somewhere?"

Kakashi jumped, then turned and smiled sheepishly behind the mask. "Just, ah, for a walk."

Iruka stared at him, arms folded. "Why don't you come talk to the doctor with me," he said finally, taking Kakashi by the arms and steering him toward the exam room.

He was surprised when the ninja didn't fight him. He was frightened at how thin the man was, and his skin was cool to the touch.

"Doctor, could you please repeat what you said a moment ago?" Iruka asked, blocking the doorway, Kakashi in front of him.

The doctor repeated it.

Kakashi wouldn’t look at either of them. "So I'll go home and sleep," he said lazily. "I can refrain from doing anything else."

"And when you start sleeping through meals? Weakening because you aren't eating? Start showing warning signs but are too tired to make it back to the hospital?" the doctor asked.

"I'm not staying here," Kakashi grumbled. "There's no reason."

"Kakashi-san," the doctor said, sounding like it was only with great effort that he used the suffix, "you came very close to dying. We have to watch for internal bleeding, for any stitches that might be re-opened--"

"What if he stayed with me?" Iruka asked. His eyes widened when he heard what he'd just said. But he hated hospitals, and he couldn't blame Kakashi for wanting to leave, and that way--well, they were friends . . .

Kakashi was staring at him.

"If you're willing to change bandages, check for warning signs, and take care of him . . ." the doctor said dubiously.

"Mostly he needs rest, right?" Iruka asked, his mouth going dry. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"I'm standing right here," Kakashi muttered.

Iruka and the doctor ignored him.

"He's going to sleep. He just needs someone to watch over him. Right?" Iruka asked again.

"Yes," the doctor said finally. "I suppose."

Iruka gave a weak smile. "I could do that."

"I want to go back to my apartment," Kakashi said sullenly.

The doctor turned to glare at him. "Here are your choices. You can either go with Iruka-san, or stay here."

Kakashi looked utterly mutinous. "I'd like to go back to my apartment," he said again, much more distinctly this time.

"You are not fit to stay by yourself," the doctor repeated.

"It's sleeping," Kakashi said, the normal indolent tones back. "I'm sure I can rest on my own."

"And feed yourself? And check your wounds? Change bandages?" the doctor asked.

"Of course."

Iruka reached out with one finger and pushed the slim man.

Kakashi's eye widened in surprise, and he had to take three steps before fetching up against the wall. "What was that for?" he asked, leaning.

"You're strong enough to take care of yourself?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi glared. Then he glared at the doctor. "I'll stay with Iruka," he muttered finally.


"I certainly don't need a babysitter," Kakashi was still protesting, nearly two hours later.

"I know," Iruka said, not for the first time, as he opened to the door to his apartment. "But humor the doctors." He glanced around the living room self-consciously, toe-ing off his sandals. It wasn't filthy, but it certainly wasn't like Kakashi's apartment.

Okay, it was filthy. Kakashi went in past him, pausing to stand beside the couch. Iruka hurried to close the door, then grabbed laundry off of the pull-out.

Kakashi folded down onto it even before the clothes were entirely out of the way. "I don't need someone to look after me. I've changed my own bandages."

"Do you need anything from your apartment?" Iruka asked, ignoring Kakashi's statement and quickly tidying.

Kakashi leaned against the arm. "No. Nothing. Maybe clothes. Later."

Iruka only nodded. "Well, let me get you some food, and change your bandages, and then if you want to nap . . ."

"I don't need to nap," Kakashi muttered, peering around. "I'm fine."

Iruka did his best to ignore the sulky tone. "Right," he said. "Let me just go get some bandages." He took his armload of clothes into the bedroom, shoving them into the hamper.

His apartment was only slightly bigger than Kakashi's; still, he had a separate bedroom and living room. There was a linen closet between them, and he dug through it quickly, looking for sheets and blankets. "You'll have to sleep on the couch," Iruka called. "I mean, you can use my futon during the day if you like, but I’m just not nice enough to give it up at night." There was no response from the other room. He hurried into the bathroom, grabbing gauze pads and medical tape. He hesitated, then picked up a container of salve, too. "We'll get you settled, and I'll head to your place to get you a change of clothes," he said, coming back into the living room.

Iruka froze.

Kakashi had fallen asleep, curled into a ball in the corner of the couch. His head was pillowed on the arm, his mouth slightly open.

"Or, you can nap first," Iruka said softly, shaking his head with a smile. He draped the blanket over Kakashi, and went into the kitchen to fix dinner.


Chapter Eight


Iruka looked up, frowning. "How can you be such a baby?"

"You're pulling my stitches," Kakashi grumbled.

"I'm not pulling your stitches. I'm not even near your stitches," Iruka said, frustrated. He lifted the ball of cotton, preparing to dab antiseptic on the slash along the back of Kakashi's arm.


"I haven't touched you yet!" Iruka exploded.

Kakashi flinched, and looked back over his shoulder. "Sorry."

Iruka took a deep breath. He needed to act like Kakashi was a child. That was all. Just the same way he would treat one of his students.

One of his students who was naked to the waist (with the exception of the mask). Who was very well muscled. Whose skin was crisscrossed and threaded with long, pale scars.

Iruka paused, eyes tracing the mesh of white lines. His mouth had gone dry. "You get injured often?" he asked softly.

Kakashi twisted, peering back farther, shoulders sliding under Iruka's hands. "Sometimes. Not usually badly."

Iruka nodded wordlessly. He touched a knot of flesh, twisted and gnarled, just under one shoulderblade. "How did this happen?"

Kakashi reached back with one long hand, feeling the scar for himself. "Kunai. Moved enough to keep it from getting my spine, but not quite enough to dodge entirely," he said nonchalantly.

Iruka kept staring.


"Hmm?" That scar traveled up, under Kakashi's mask. Three more scars traveled across it.

"You all right?"

"Fine," Iruka said absently. His hands slipped, sliding down the indent of Kakashi's spine. Wickedly twisted flesh wrapped around the Jounin's waist, notching over one hip, and vanishing into his pants. Iruka's fingers drifted over what he could see, feeling how the chakra was fainter there than everywhere else. The chakra pathways healed better than skin, but not perfectly. Damage them badly enough, and the person would never recover.

His mother had lain in a hospital bed, her chakra lines cut, bones and nerves shattered and torn. She had slowly faded away into nothingness.

The body under him twisted, and hands grabbed his. Iruka jumped and looked up into mismatched eyes. He blinked several times.

"Are you all right?" Kakashi asked quietly. His eyes flickered back and forth, between Iruka's own.

"Fine," Iruka said after a moment. Then he smiled sheepishly, realizing how distant he'd gotten. "I'm fine. Really. Sorry. I just--I don't--"

"You have scars, too," Kakashi said, smiling and releasing Iruka's hands to tap the bridge of his own nose.

Iruka touched his scar reflexively, then slid back on the couch. "I know. It's not that, I just--" he gestured to Kakashi. With the other man turned to watch him, he could see scars on his chest as well. "Sorry. I'm not used to so many. I mean, not since my parents--" he stopped there. "I'm just not used to it."

Kakashi watched him. "You've been on missions," he said finally. "I'm sure you have a few yourself."

Iruka felt his face turning pink. "Not so many. I haven't really done that many missions."

Kakashi turned his head away, smothering a sudden yawn, then turned back. "Why not? You're a Chunnin. You could do missions."

Iruka shook his head. "I prefer teaching. I like the kids, and I'm good at it. And I really don't like killing people."

Kakashi watched him for a moment more before nodding solemnly. "Some don't." He settled back against the couch, his energy fading. Iruka scooted closer, lifting the man's arm and dabbing antiseptic on the wound inside his elbow.

"Do you ever talk about your parents?" Kakashi asked, almost sleepily.

Iruka glanced at him. He was staring across the room, and Iruka followed his gaze.

A picture of the three of them, before their death, smiled back at him. He looked away. "Not really. Who wants to hear about that?"

Kakashi lifted his shoulders and dropped them again. "My parents died. I'd listen."

Iruka stopped and looked at Kakashi, who was staring right back at him, slouched on the couch. Something niggled in the back of his mind. Something he didn't like about that statement, that he couldn't quite place. After a moment, Iruka stood, bending over Kakashi to reach the rest of the cuts. On his neck, and the back of the man's arm, and various smaller, less dangerous ones, on his torso. He bandaged them wordlessly, then picked up his things and headed into the bathroom to put them away. By the time he came back out, Kakashi was asleep.

A long time ago

"I don't understand."

Sakumo sighed and shifted, gathering Kakashi's knees in one hand and pulling him more snugly into his lap.

"Is it because I joined the academy?"

There was a bare pause. Not long. But long enough.

Kakashi swallowed and stared hard at his knees. "I know Mother doesn't want me to be a ninja. I can stop. I won't be a ninja anymore."

"It's not because you joined the academy," his father said quietly.

Too late, though; the silence said everything. His mother was gone, and Kakashi knew why. He remembered them fighting. They fought about it a lot.

"It's not because of that," his father said again.

Kakashi squirmed until his father let him down. He stood in front of the man, looking up at him solemnly. "I'll quit."

"No," Sakumo said loudly.

Kakashi's eyes widened. He'd never heard his father talk to him like that.

"Kakashi . . ." Sakumo wilted, elbows on his knees. "Kakashi, something very bad has happened with your mother. She's going to live in a different place now."

"Very bad?" Kakashi asked softly. Suddenly, he wanted to cry. "Will she be okay?"

"She'll be fine," his father said, refusing to look up from his hands. "But she can't live with us anymore."

"Can I see her?" Kakashi asked.

Sakumo hesitated. "When you're older," he said finally.

Kakashi stared at him, as if he could divine the truth from what his father was saying. Finally, though, he had to concede defeat. "Promise?" he asked softly. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't do anything like that. He was strong. He was going to be a ninja.



It had been bothering Iruka all day, and it wasn't until he saw Genma snap his toothpick in two--though why that triggered his memory, he had no idea--that he realized what it was.

"My parents died," Kakashi had said.

"Just wait," Genma had said, "the next thing he'll tell you is that his mother is dead."

Iruka took a deep breath as his temper rose, snarling through his blood. There had to be a reason. A misunderstanding. Maybe Genma was wrong. Maybe Kakashi had meant his father was dead, not both parents.

"Genma?" Iruka asked, deceptively calm.

Genma--who was studying his broken toothpick with a frown--grunted.

"Where's Kakashi's mother?"

The Special Jounin shrugged, fishing a senbon out of his pocket. "Not sure anymore." He flipped it through the air, catching it in his teeth before chewing on it.

"Are you certain she's alive?" Iruka asked. He nearly held his breath, waiting for the answer. If he wasn't certain, then maybe she was dead, and Kakashi hadn't misled him.

"No idea. But last I heard she was." The senbon flicked from one side of his mouth to the other, sharp and glimmering.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Eventually, Iruka closed up and headed back to his apartment.

By that time, anger had had a chance to boil. His parents were dead. There was nothing even remotely all right about saying someone was dead when they weren't.

He opened the door, fury building to a storm, and immediately had to swallow it.

Shikamaru was sitting across from Kakashi, staring hard at a Shougi board. Kakashi was slouched back in a nest of blankets, eyes half-lidded.

"Shikamaru?" Iruka asked. "What are you doing here?"

The boy looked up and shrugged, frowning slightly. "Asuma asked me to come keep Kakashi company for a while."

"Ah." Iruka wondered how to get rid of him. Shikamaru, however, didn't need a prompt--after a moment's study, he stood.

"I should go. We can finish tomorrow," he said, and made a quick exit.

"I think he cheats," Kakashi grumbled, staring at the board. "He won three games out of five. That's just not normal. I'm good at this . . ."

Iruka stood, nearly trembling. He took a deep breath. Then another. Kakashi still hadn't noticed. "What happened to your mother?" he said at last, trying to sound as conversational as possible.

Kakashi didn't look up. "Dead."

Iruka nodded. "Oh. When?"

"Years ago."


"On a mission. What do you think about this set-up he has going?" Kakashi asked, poking at pieces.

Iruka still hadn't come entirely into the room.

Kakashi finally looked up.

"Genma seems to think she was alive fairly recently."

Kakashi just watched him.

Slowly, Iruka took off his shoes and entered the room. He didn't look at Kakashi. He wasn't sure if he could. "Is she dead or not?"

There was a long moment of silence. Iruka prayed she was dead. That it was a misunderstanding. Anything.

"No," Kakashi said finally. "She's not."

Anger and hurt rose like a tsunami, swamping Iruka. She wasn't dead. Kakashi had lied to him, and for no reason he could see. The man had made something so important nothing more than--than--

"Why would you say that she was dead?" Iruka nearly yelled, furious. "Is this your twisted way of trying to make friends? To say something I might relate to?"

Kakashi's eyes closed, a smile under his mask, and he shrugged nonchalantly. "She's dead to me."

"Dead to you and dead aren't the same thing!" Iruka shouted. "Dead to you means you were angry and glad she's gone, but if you ever decide you still love her you can go see her!" Something twisted in his stomach, something black and yawning. "I can't! My mother is dead, no matter what I wish!" It was then that he realized how much it hurt. To use something like that, to make everything he'd dealt with nothing more than a device to get close--

Iruka whipped away, stalked to the kitchen, turned, stalked back. Kakashi was staring hard at his hands. The smile had been wiped from his face.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi said quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Iruka glared at him. "You asked me what I wanted, in order to date you. I want truth. Where is your mother?" he ground out finally.

Kakashi was silent for a long time. When he spoke, he didn't look up. "In another country. Being held for trading vital information to one of our enemies."

He felt like the room had dropped out from underneath him. Iruka stared. "What?"

Kakashi still didn't look up. "She hated being a ninja. When my father enrolled me, she was going to take me and run. In trade for sanctuary, she traded information on our village. My father found out. He stopped her. I learned about it when I was older."

He was very wooden. Iruka, hands braced on his hips, glared at the far wall. Then he glared at Kakashi. Then the wall.

He stood, silent.

"I understand," Iruka said finally, still angry but trying to be reasonable, "why you might tell someone your mother was dead if they asked. But why volunteer that information? Why lie?"

Kakashi didn't squirm. "You looked like you wanted to talk. I thought maybe . . . maybe if you wanted to talk, you'd talk to me."

"Kakashi--" Iruka said loudly. He heard his own voice and stopped dead, took a deep breath, and tried again. "Kakashi, if I wanted to talk to you, I would. I would talk to you if I felt I knew you, and trusted you. But I don't!" His voice was rising again, and this time he couldn't bring himself to care. "You lie about nearly everything from what I can tell, and I'm not sure I even know you!"

Kakashi sank further into the couch. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Iruka yelled. "Tell me the damn truth!"

Kakashi stared at his hands. "I did."

"After I caught you in a lie!"

He glared even harder at his hands. "I'm sorry."

Iruka opened his mouth to shout something else, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door.

It felt so good, he slammed it again, just for good measure.


He rolled over on his futon, staring at the bedside clock.

Three thirty.

With a frustrated sigh, he swung his legs over the side and stood, shuffling out of his bedroom in nothing more than drawstring pants. A glance at the couch showed Kakashi, sprawled out in black ninja basics, a vague shape in the dark.

Iruka stared for a moment. The man's eyes were closed, but his breathing was fast. Awake.

Iruka walked into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and walked back out into the living room. He stood in front of the table with the game of Shougi still laid out, and watched the man pretend to sleep.

"I loved my parents very much," he said into the silence.

An eye fluttered open, but Kakashi didn't otherwise move.

"When they died, I was--" he couldn't even begin to explain that hurt. That sense of utter despair. Of loneliness. The void that opened up, that not even the village could fill. The anger at being left alone, and the guilt at being angry. The firm belief that, had he been there, he could have done something. That he should have died too.

He realized he was holding his glass tight enough to make his hand sore, and forcefully relaxed. "It hurt," he said finally. "More than anything else ever has. And it never stopped."

One eye glowed dully red in the dark, almost invisible.

"I reacted more than I should have. But when you lied about that--" he stopped again. He was shaking.

Kakashi sat up slowly. Blankets slid as he shifted, moving over on the couch. The sound of fabric against fabric whispered through the air.

If he apologized again, Iruka might kill him. Apologies meant nothing.

"I don't remember much of my mother," Kakashi said quietly. "And I wasn't close to my fa--" he stopped dead. His head dipped, a silhouette against the window. It came back up a moment later. "I was angry at my father. I didn't mean disrespect towards you, or what you've gone through."

Iruka's eyes were burning. He nodded sharply, hoping Kakashi couldn't see how wet they were. It was too much for a single day. Too much anger, and remembered grief.

"I never changed your bandages," Iruka said after a moment, when he was sure he could talk.

"It's all right," Kakashi answered simply.

Iruka set down his glass of water and picked up the supplies, shifting over to the couch. He sat down in the vacated spot, settling things in his first aid box while Kakashi pulled off his shirt. Slowly, the anger was draining out of him, replaced by exhaustion and weariness.

He untaped the worst of the injuries, a stitched gash near Kakashi's spine, and swished alcohol onto a pad.

They sat in silence for a long time. The sting of alcohol drifted between them, quickly dispersing, leaving only the way Kakashi smelled. Clean, and warm, and vaguely of sun. Then Iruka spilled more alcohol onto a pad, and the sting was back between them.

"This is bleeding," Iruka said, watching the gauze turn pink.

"I ripped the stitches earlier."

Iruka didn't respond, only checked it before putting a new cloth on top and taping it over once more. The silence stretched between them, bordering on uncomfortable. All Iruka could think of were his parents dying. Not much else would come to mind. But--he could work with that. "How old were you, when your father died?" he asked into the silence.

Kakashi 'hmm'ed. "Eight," he said finally, and said nothing more.

"That must have been hard."

Kakashi's hand tightened on the edge of the couch. Underneath his fingers, Iruka felt the man's muscles tense.

"Not really," Kakashi said. "It was his choice." The hands relaxed after a moment, but the tension didn't ease.

"Just because it's his choice, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." Iruka re-bandaged Kakashi's arm, then let his hands travel across the man's shoulders to the other side. Quietly, he dug his fingers into heavy muscle, hitting pressure points. The knots gave way, and some of the tension drained off.

"Whoa," Kakashi said quietly.

Iruka grinned, where Kakashi couldn't see. "Where did you live, afterwards?"

Kakashi shrugged, gracefully. "The Fourth let me stay with him for a while. Before he was the Fourth."

Iruka nodded, checking the deep cut under Kakashi's arm.

"Five years later, I moved into the Jounin bachelor apartments, and just stayed."

Iruka's mind sped, thinking. Five years. "You were thirteen?"

Kakashi 'hmm'ed again. "What about you? Where did you live, after your parents died?"

Iruka flinched from the memories, then took a deep breath. It wasn't fair to ask Kakashi, and expect to not be asked in return. "In a foster home, for a while. Eventually, in my own apartment that the village paid for." He remembered being lonely, and feeling lost.

Mostly, that had gone away.

His hands fell to his knees, looking at the broad expanse of Kakashi's back. In the dark, he couldn't see the scars; only a lot of pale skin. "I should let you go back to bed. You need to sleep."

"I'm feeling better," Kakashi said, twisting to look back. The expanse of his skin was broken by the mask, black and inky. Silver hair sprouted above it, half of it crushed and the other half sticking up.

"I know. You'll probably be well enough to go home in a day or two. But right now, sleep."

Kakashi sighed and looked like he might protest, but Iruka could read the exhaustion radiating from him. He stood and got his glass of water again, heading toward the bedroom before Kakashi could argue.


Chapter nine
Long ago . . .

"Sakumo-san, thank you for coming," the blond Jounin said, stepping back into the office.

"Is everything all right? Kakashi--"

"Is in the yard, with the students. I called you because . . ." He petered off, sitting down at his desk and rubbing his eyes. "Sakumo, Kakashi has started wearing mask. Do you have any idea why?"

"No," Sakumo said, too tired to be truly concerned. "Have you asked him about it?"

The Jounin frowned. "I thought maybe you could ask him. I'm a bit worried about him; I've never had a student quite so--"

"Thank you," Saskumo interrupted, standing. He knew it was rude. He couldn't bring himself to care. This man had implied things about his son--his son, who was brilliant and--and--and now he had something else he had to deal with. He couldn't do all this. "I'll talk to him." He walked out of the office and into the yard.

Kakashi sat alone on a swing under an old tree, watching children play. A long cloth was tied around the lower portion of his face, knotted behind his head.

"Kakashi?" his father called, managing to smile slightly when blue eyes looked up at him. "Come on."

Kakashi got to his feet, very thin and straight. He had tested in the Chuunin exams just a few weeks before; only eight months after becoming a Genin. The Third had put him under the care of one of their younger Jounin, a man that everyone said was a genius. They had no other Genin they could pair a six-year-old with. No one else could compare with Kakashi. Sakumo was proud of his boy, and yet still wondered if his wife had been right. If it wasn't too much, too fast. He felt like he didn't even know his child anymore. The year had been . . . bad.

And now his son was wearing a mask.

They walked in silence for a long while. "Why?" Sakumo asked finally.

Kakashi shrugged.

Silence stretched awkwardly. "I'm very proud of you," Sakumo said after a while.

Kakashi didn't respond.

"We haven't spoken lately." Weeks, since they had had a real conversation. Anything beyond 'good morning' and 'have a nice day.' Sakumo blamed himself. There was no one else to blame. He had isolated them from their village. He had ostracized their entire family. He had become so involved in his own pain that he had forgotten his only child, leaving him almost entirely in the care of a Jounin he barely knew.

He was a failure, but Kakashi was suffering for it.

"Why are you wearing a mask?" Sakumo asked again, the words quiet. He put a hand on his son's arm, stopping him.

The boy--the child, really--pulled away, glaring. "I don't want to look like you. I don't want to see my face, and I don't want the others to see it, either. I hate you, and I hate what you did, and I hate that I look like you."

"Kakashi--" Sakumo started.

"Leave me alone," Kakashi snapped, turning and bolting down the street.

Sakumo almost followed. But--no point. Not in any of it. All he did was bring his child pain. He sat heavily on a bench, his head in his hands.

There was no way out of anything.


"So, you were how old when you became a Jounin?" Iruka asked, a note of barely hidden incredulousness in his voice.

Kakashi didn't smile, though it was a chore. He was proud of what he'd accomplished, and it was nice to have someone he actually cared about sound impressed. "Thirteen."

"Huh. And how old when you became ANBU?" Iruka asked again, folding laundry.

That one, Kakashi had to think about. "Seventeen," he said finally. "I'm pretty sure I was seventeen."

"Huh." Iruka folded two towels, setting them on a pile, and reached for a bedsheet. "If you were a Jounin by the time you were thirteen," he said slowly, "who was in your team?"

Kakashi shifted. His limbs still felt vaguely sluggish, and he was getting cold again. It seemed like he slept most of the time, still. "Other Jounin," he said, pulling the blanket up around his legs. Outside, rain pattered against the building, distant and faint. He could taste the burn of ozone, and suspected they might have lightning later.

"Were there other Jounin your age?" Iruka asked. He was frowning at a hole in the sheet, his finger wiggling through it as if that might make it go away.

"Not really. Itachi, but he's a bit younger than me. And we didn't travel in the same circles."

Iruka just looked at him for a moment. Kakashi looked back. Discomfort grew. The impressed look had given way to an entirely too thoughtful one. "Yes?" Kakashi asked, uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing," Iruka said, shaking his head as if rooting himself back in his body, and returning to folding. "I just--well, you and Uchiha Itachi were really the only geniuses that had to grow up alone. The Sannin all had each other, and even still, Orochimaru turned out like he did. I was trying to figure out if there was a difference between those that handled it all right, and those that didn't. It seems like you'd be awfully isolated."

Kakashi frowned behind his mask. "I wasn't isolated."

"So you had friends?" Iruka asked, perking up.

"Well--I didn't need them."

Iruka was looking at him thoughtfully again. "Hmm," he said, and tied two socks together.

"Hmm?" Kakashi asked. He really disliked having someone draw conclusions about him. He drew conclusions about people, not the other way around. Another reason he preferred lying to telling the truth. People didn't make decisions about you.

Outside, thunder growled.

"Nothing." They were silent for a moment.

Kakashi sprawled back out on the couch, feeling sleepy once more. He stared out the window at the setting sun, at the reds splashed across the sky.

"Why do you wear the mask?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi just shrugged. Then he grinned, both eyes curving. "Makes me mysterious."

Iruka snorted and carried the clean clothes to his bedroom, then came back for towels and sheets. He tossed a blanket on the couch and it bounced across, half unfolding over Kakashi's legs. Kakashi pulled it farther up, enjoying the heat.

He was getting tired of being tired all the time. Of being cold, and exhausting easily, and sleeping for most of the day. Especially of this stupid damp storm, which made his bones hurt. Still, he could see the improvement. Taking a shower left him trembling from fatigue, but at least he could get all the way through one without having to sit down.

A few more days.


Iruka put the towels away, and walked back into the living room. He could sense Kakashi fading again, could feel the man's chakra ebbing, and knew that he'd be sound asleep in another half hour.

Still, Kakashi roused himself and blinked owlishly. Iruka was getting used to the Sharingan, and the clean scar that marred the smooth flesh around it. He no longer felt the urge to stare. He still wondered, though, why the mask.

Kakashi apparently wasn't willing to answer that question.

"What did you do today?" Kakashi asked, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch.

Iruka headed into the kitchen, talking through the doorway while he prepared dinner. The window was sleeted with rain, making the night even darker. "Oh, mostly work."

"You were home late."

He couldn't quite suppress the grin, and he leaned around the doorway to see Kakashi. "Sorry, honey," he said, near mockingly.

Kakashi snorted a laugh. "Well, Shikamaru's not quite as good company . . ."

"You win at Shougi yet?" Iruka asked, heading farther into the kitchen. He peered into cupboards, wishing he'd gone grocery shopping. But the storm had been threatening, and he hadn't wanted to get caught . . .

"I've won several times, thank you. He's just won more," Kakashi added, in an undertone.

Iruka laughed.

"Where were you?" Kakashi asked again.

"Visiting Mizuki," Iruka answered. He had ramen, mostly left over for Naruto, and some vegetables . . . maybe if he chopped enough vegetables, the ramen would be edible.

"Mizuki? Didn't he try to steal the--"

"Yes," Iruka said, before Kakashi could finish the thought. "He's still in prison. I try and see him at least once a week." The carrots had gone bad. He sighed and tossed them into the garbage. Scratch that idea.

A shadow fell across him, and Iruka looked up to see Kakashi leaning against the doorframe, trying to look nonchalant and still looking very pale. "Didn't he use you?" Kakashi asked.

The kitchen lit up for just a moment, and thunder snarled.

Iruka frowned. "Eventually. But he was a friend, and everyone makes mistakes."

"Most people don't try to kill each other," Kakashi said dryly. "You can't tell me that betrayal didn't hurt you."

Iruka scratched at his forehead. He hated these conversations. "Of course it did. He was my best friend. But everyone's redeemable, Kakashi," he said softly, back turned. "I have to believe that."

Kakashi was silent behind him. "Hn," he said at last.

Maybe they could just order food.

"Want me to cook?"

That was it. They were ordering food. "You go sit down before you fall down," Iruka said, frowning. "I'm going to the place down the street. What do you want?" He pulled a menu off his corkboard and handed it to Kakashi.

Kakashi shook his head. "Order often?"

Iruka didn't bother with an answer.


"Why are we talking about this?" Iruka asked, throwing out the pick-up dinner containers before settling back down on the floor with his plate. He could feel his face burning.

"Because it's funny," Kakashi said cheerfully.

"My sex life is not funny," Iruka muttered, only partially annoyed. Even he could see the humorous side, he had to admit.

"No, but your lack of a sex life is hilarious."

He mock-glared at Kakashi. "Isn't virginity supposed to be a turn-on?" he said, his plate in his lap. "Maybe I'm lying just to be sexier."

Kakashi laughed. "But you nearly had sex in a tree." It was almost a question.

Iruka groaned. "You know, when you made Genma stop teasing me, I thought you were going to let this drop."

"I was just making Genma drop it. That doesn't apply to me. So. Sex in a tree?"

"It was just fooling around, thank you," Iruka said, sniffing.

The apartment lit for a brief moment, as another bolt of lightning tore through the sky.

"With Mizuki?"

Iruka eyed Kakashi. "Apparently I have a thing for guys who look old," he said.

"Hey!" Kakashi protested instantly.

Iruka grinned.

"I was born with this hair," Kakashi said.

"So was Mizuki," Iruka answered. "Besides, why are you harassing me? I mean, I somehow doubt you have a secret life as a sex fiend."

Kakashi looked smug. "More than you."

"You don't know how much fooling around I did," Iruka countered.

"I know I'm not a virgin."

Iruka looked at him carefully. Kakashi looked utterly smug. "You're not a virgin?" Iruka asked doubtfully.

Kakashi shook his head.

"You've had sex?"

Kakashi nodded.

Iruka seriously doubted it. "When?" he demanded.

Kakashi hesitated.

"That's what I thought," he said, snorting. "You can't possibly tell me that you, the guy who says he had no friends because he was a Jounin at thirteen, has had sex. You don't even drink, so you couldn't have picked up at a bar."

Kakashi was looking mildly amused, eyes half lidded.

"And since you don't have a peer group--oh, wait, I know," Iruka said, waving his chipsticks in the air. "You had sex on a mission."

Kakashi grinned.

"I've got it!" Iruka said dramatically, standing up and carrying his plate into the kitchen. He still couldn't see out the window; rain was coming down in sheets. "You were on a mission, and something terrible happened, and so you had sympathy sex!"

There was no answer from the other room.

Iruka put his plate in the sink, grabbed a glass of water, and started to wander back out. "Only, you were really young," he said thoughtfully. "Got it! You were scared and got taken advantage of, but it was really okay because--"

He stopped dead in the doorway.

Kakashi wasn't smiling. He wasn't eating. He was staring at the doorway with half-lidded eyes, gaze cold. "I wasn't taken advantage of," he said quietly.

Iruka flinched, and went pale, the meaning of that statement sinking in with the realization that the rest of it hadn't been denied. "Oh. Oh, Kakashi, I'm sorry," he said softly.

Kakashi was sprawled back against the couch, feet propped on the table, gaze still half-lidded and deceptively bored.

"I didn't mean--" Iruka stopped, cringing internally. Of all the stupid things. It wasn't as if people having sex on missions was an uncommon occurrence. Not terribly common, either, but stranger things happened. "I'm really stupid sometimes," Iruka said, half stuttering over his own words.

Kakashi kept looking at him with that disinterested stare. "That's all right," he said casually. "Better to have sympathy sex than to be used and betrayed, and go back for more."

Iruka froze. Better to have sympathy sex than be used. Better, because to be used meant you were weak. To go back to the user was stupid, and foolish, and needy and--and desperate.


Something tightened in his chest, something hard and cold and painful. Carefully, he picked up Kakashi's dinner plate and carried it back into the kitchen. Better to have sympathy sex then be used. He scraped off what was left of the meal, set it down in the sink, and started to run water. Stupid to allow yourself to be used. Worse to go back to the user.

Mizuki had used him. For sex? To steal? They hadn't been friends. Mizuki admitted it, told him he was foolish and naïve and good for nothing. And yet he kept going back to the man.

He'd hurt Kakashi. That much had been obvious. He hadn't meant to, but--


But what? But he had, so it made Kakashi lashing out all right? It made it all right for Kakashi to say something calculated to hurt? To imply weakness in Iruka? It was effective, that was certain.

Lightning tore through the sky, and in that moment he saw Kakashi's shadow blasted on the wall in front of him. Thunder pealed into the silence.

"I'm sorry." The words were still cold.

Iruka didn't respond. He was shaking. He didn't dare speak.

He heard Kakashi take a deep breath, and step forward. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did," Iruka said. His jaw was so tight it hurt. Better to have sympathy sex then be used. To be used and return was pathetic.

"No. I'm sorry."

He dropped his water glass into the sink, and it shattered. "No, you're not," he snapped, picking out the still-whole base and throwing it toward the trashcan. "You say things like this, and I don't know why you feel a fucking need to say these things--to, what? Get a reaction? I've seen you do this before--hell, you did this to me when you nominated Team Seven for the Chuunin exams! Well, you got a reaction."

He felt the hand more than saw it, and snarled a look over his shoulder. "Don't touch me."

Kakashi pulled away.

Iruka swept up the last of the glass with a towel and tossed all of it into the garbage. Then he turned to face Kakashi.

He was still shaking. "Mizuki was a mistake," he said. "But before that, he was a friend when I needed one. You're just an asshole." He turned back to the sink, hands braced on the counter. "Get out of my kitchen."


"Get out!" Iruka yelled. There was a moment of silence. Then he felt Kakashi retreat.

He stared at the running water for a long time. It hurt. He'd hurt Kakashi, but it hadn't been on purpose. That--that had been calculated. And it worked. It brought up all the things that had torn at him when Mizuki had betrayed him. All the insecurities, that he was only good for being used. That Mizuki had only been his friend so he could laugh behind Iruka's back. That he, himself, wasn't worth anything.

Pathetically needy. Used.

"Shit," Iruka hissed. He couldn't stay here.

He looked at the rain out the window, then shut off the water and stormed into his bedroom. He ignored Kakashi, sitting carefully silent on the couch, and changed into sweatpants and shirt.

"I'm going jogging," he said, walking straight through the living room and to the door.

"It's raining."

Iruka didn't answer, just bolted out and slammed the door behind him.

He ran. If he went hard enough and fast enough, maybe the anger would burn out. Maybe he'd forget everything.

His clothing soaked through almost instantly. He kept running, splashing across empty streets and out, away from the people and bright windows. Somewhere dark.

Trees arched overhead. He ran deeper into the shadows, focusing on the uneven ground beneath his feet, the cold rain hitting hot skin, anything but the hurt.

Kakashi didn't know how to be friendly. This wasn't worth it. He'd thought they were friends. Iruka knew people, but somehow it seemed like every time he got close, things went bad.

Maybe there was something wrong with him.

Iruka stopped running. Rain streamed down his back, mingling with sweat. He put his hands on his knees and panted, breathing in gasps. His clothes were plastered to his skin, his flesh pimpling with cold.

When he looked up, he realized he was at the monument. He put a hand out, palm flat on the black stone. It was wet, and cold, and it made him shiver.

His chest hurt from breathing. He rubbed an arm across his face, wiping away moisture. It dripped back in, from his hair, from the rain. One finger traced the names of his parents, shaking. He fell forward slowly, folding his arms across the stone and leaning in, as if they were there. As if he could feel them, somewhere, watching.

"I need help," he whispered. Rain pelted his head, hammering down through his hair, on the back of his neck, on his spine. "I don’t know what to do."

He rolled, dropping his arms and staring up at the sky, leaning back against the monument.

They'd been gone for twelve years. Twelve long years, and suddenly it was like it had been two days. That darkness opened up inside him, nearly swallowing him, and he realized he was crying. Iruka slid to the wet ground, bracing his arms on his knees and resting his head.

He needed them, and they were gone. He'd needed a friend, and Mizuki had used him. Kakashi was right. Kakashi was an asshole, who hurt him. But Kakashi was right.

By the time he'd worn himself out, had berated himself and hated Kakashi and run through the entire gamut of emotions, the storm was fading. He was shivering, his teeth chattering, and he was soaked. Iruka stood, his body protesting, and started the long walk back to his apartment.

He was tired. Bone-weary. It took much longer to get back than it had to run away.

He opened the door and nearly staggered inside.

He froze. Silence reached him, broken by the sound of his teeth knocking. He clenched his jaw to hear over them, and realized what was missing.


Carefully, he walked through the room, toward the back. The bathroom was empty. So was his bedroom. He looked out the window, at the drizzle still coming down, and remembered the cold. Remembered Kakashi, still struggling with blood loss and minor organ damage, and barely able to even keep his own body heat up.

He shrugged into a coat and ran out the door

Chapter ten
Years ago. . .

"We need to find out what they know." The ANBU squad leader, Kazou, looked anxiously over his shoulder.

"And find the rest of the team," Kakashi said, his eyes following where the Lightning Country troop had gone with their people.

The captain looked at him, pulling a mask down over his face. "You find out what they learned. I'll get our squad." Then the ANBU was gone, leaping into the trees and vanishing into the forest.

Kakashi turned back to their captive, who was glaring at him darkly. "I'm not going to tell you anything," the ninja snarled.

Kakashi cocked his head and smiled grimly. "Yes. You are."

The screaming started not long after. It was a long time before it stopped.

Kakashi walked slowly through a clearing. He passed from sunlight to shadow. Walked under the trees. To the stream nearby.

He took three deep breaths. Then the ice shattered around his chest, and he dropped to his knees. The smell of blood clung to him. Acid burned in his nose. He retched, ripping his mask down and coughing vomit into the dirt between his hands.

His gloves were red, and wet. He was shaking. Cold. And he could hear the man screaming. He wouldn't stop screaming, even though Kakashi kept telling himself it was all in his mind.

Just in his mind. The screaming was gone. The man was dead. He'd killed him. He could still hear the screaming and the man was dead.

Kakashi retched again. It dripped from his mouth and nose, burning his sinuses. It smelled like blood. He was cold. Someone cried, long and loud and begging--no, the man was dead.

A hand touched him. He jumped, flinching away, expecting to see a corpse. It would kill him, and--

Kakashi stared at his squad captain, the figure coming into focus slowly. Breath whistled through the teenager's lungs. His chest burned.

"Kakashi," Kazou said, but his voice seemed too quiet. Distant. The man looked around, and Kakashi's vision blurred. He started to tremble, and held onto the ground. "Head back to the village," the captain said, in that same slow voice. "We'll catch up."

Two shapes that Kakashi hadn't seen vanished.

Something sparkled. He jumped, turned. Light glittered on the water. His heart hammered. Blood thrummed in his ears. Birds sung, shrill and piercing. Wind ruffled through his hair, and the man begged him to stop, and his kunai severed a tendon but only in the man's mind--

Everything smelled sweet. Someone was talking. Kakashi shook. Cold. So, so cold. Wet, and slick. Blood, pooled around his feet, churning to mud and--

He bent over, choking on nothing. A hand on his back rubbed circles, and offered him water from a flask.

His hands wouldn't work. He couldn't hold onto it. Someone else did, fingers on the back of his head, tipping water into his mouth. Words. Words babbling, telling him everything he asked--

Someone screamed.

Pain rocked through him. Kakashi's head whirled, and he blinked, and looked up--

His squad captain was staring hard at him, face inches from his, hands on either side of his head.

Kakashi grabbed Kazou's wrists, clinging to the only thing that was solid, real.

"Look at me. That's right. Just keep looking at me," his captain said, brown eyes pinning his.

Kakashi realized he was whimpering. He bit down on his lip, tasted something sweet, and--

He twisted away, stomach heaving again.

"It's all right. It'll be okay. I shouldn’t have--I'm sorry. It's okay. Focus on the present. Forget what happened. It'll be fine."

He listened to the words like a lifeline, hearing them fade in and out, and waited for the ground to stop screaming.

"He won't stop," he heard himself whisper. "He keeps crying . . ."

"Try not to think about it," his captain said.

He felt hands on his jacket, pulling at him. It was off, and on the ground, and he was still shivering.

"Wait--" he managed, feeling more hands tugging on his clothes.

"You're going into shock," Kazou said, yanking the black shirt off over Kakashi's head.

Shock. Shock was bad. Still screaming. Still bloody. Begging to be killed. The snap of a broken bone, like breaking a dry twig. He heard himself whine, but couldn't stop.

"Think about what's going on now," Kazou said, holding onto Kakashi's shoulders. Kakashi bit back a hysterical sob. Skin, burningly hot, seared through his clothes and roasted him. Kakashi focused on it, clinging to the sensation.

"That's it," the captain said, wrapping a blanket around the smaller man and pulling him close.

Kakashi curled into the chest, listening to the heartbeat hammering there. Heat radiated from the man's body. Kazou chafed his arm. Kakashi sat there, trying desperately to do as his captain said, to focus on what was happening at that moment--

--not on the screaming, the man was screaming--

No. No, it was a warm day and the stream was gurgling--

--blood in his captive's throat while the man tried to speak--

--that hadn't happened and it was water in the stream.

"C-can't," Kakashi stuttered, memories crashing back in painfully. He cried and clung to Kazou's shirt, burying his face into the man's neck, breathing the sharp smell of adrenaline and sweat. "Help," he whispered.

"I forgot how young--Kakashi, it's all right. I'm sorry. Listen to my voice, all right? Find something to hold onto. Smell, touch, think of the way the blanket feels."

He listened to the voice, trying to match his breathing with the body he was plastered against. Slow, long breaths. Felt the sunlight on his hair, and his face, and the rough weave of the blanket. Slow strokes from Kazou, his hand traveling up and down Kakashi's spine.

He was still shaking. Still cold. But the screams were receding. He wiped at his face, felt skin rather than cloth, and realized his mask was down. He twisted, panic rising, grabbing for it and trying to yank it up with numb fingers.

"It's all right, I've got it. It's all right," Kazou said, pulling the material up and putting it in place. "There. See? All right." He left his hand there, brushing his thumb along the material. "You're fine."

Kakashi burrowed into the touch, focusing on it. It was . . . nice. It wasn't frightening, or painful. Kazou's skin smelled good. Ice melted a little bit in his stomach, as if the heat could thaw it. He turned his head and kissed the man's palm, through the mask.

Kazou froze. "That's not a great idea, kiddo," he said quietly.

"S-stay in the present, right?" Kakashi asked. His voice was trembling. Everything was still so cold. Cold, and dead, and--

He shuddered, breath hitching, and buried his face against Kazou's neck. Warm. He smelled good. Kakashi rubbed his face against the skin, trying desperately to find something that would root him in the present. Away from the things he'd just done.

Warm skin, and it smelled good, safe, and the more he rubbed the easier it was not to think about--about--that.

He kissed Kazou again, breathing through the mask. Kazou was carefully still.

"You're too young," Kazou said, finally shifting. He rubbed a hand up and down Kakashi's spine, exactly as he'd been doing before.

Kakashi wanted to cry. Was afraid he might, but not because he was frustrated. His eyes burned, and for a moment, he felt everything that he'd just done was trying to drag him under again. He dug his hands into Kazou's shirt, rubbing burning eyes--eyes staring at him in terror as he knelt before them, blade coming closer--He shuddered and nearly screamed into the man's shoulder.

"It's all right. Stay here," Kazou whispered.

"Please. Please." His voice broke. Staying in the present with nothing to focus on was impossible. He could focus on touch. It was active, and it was good, and--his breath hitched in his chest and he kneaded his fingers against Kazou's chest. "I can't not think about it. Kazou, please--"

"Shit," the ANBU hissed. Then Kakashi was shifted, resettling with a knee on either side of the man's hips. "This is not the healthy way to deal with things," Kazou muttered.

Hand slid under the blanket, against bare skin. Kakashi shivered. Hot. Almost hot enough to burn, which only told him he was cold. He leaned in again, wrapping his arms around Kazou's chest, breathing deeply against the man's neck. Hands slid down his back, tugged at the buckle on his pants, and slid under.

Kakashi bit down on a cry, unsure himself whether it was a good noise or a bad one, and--

--screaming the man was screaming--

He closed both eyes, his arms tightening around Kazou.

"I know. It's all right," Kazou breathed, air warm on Kakashi's skin. "Think about me, all right? Focus on touch. Trust me."

Touch. Focus on touch. On the heat of the body in front of him, and the pressure from hands sliding over his hips. On--

--the way blood slicked his fingers--

Kakashi bit his lip until the skin broke, until that pain brought him back. Kazou was talking, a constant murmur of assurances and apologies. His hands were petting, sliding up Kakashi's back, only to reverse and travel back down, beneath the waistband of his pants, as far down as they could reach, and father than anyone else ever had.

His body wouldn't react properly. He could only focus for so long before the past swept over him again and he saw blood and heard screaming. Kazou brought him back and started over, playing Kakashi carefully, building lust and tension. When Kakashi finally stopped thinking, when his brain gave in to his body and finally--finally--he stopped hearing the Jounin begging and pleading for it to end, when his body released in a surge of hormones and endorphins, he started crying for the first time in years.

Kazou rolled them both over, wrapping the blanket around them, Kakashi's masked face buried in his chest, and petted him.


Iruka peered in the window to Kakashi's tiny apartment. It was dark, the bed neatly made, the two photos together on the shelf above.

There was no sign of Kakashi. No sign of him there, and no sign of him on the way, and Iruka was running out of ideas. He was soaked to the skin once more, so cold he couldn't stop shivering. He couldn't imagine how Kakashi, who was still recovering, would feel.

He jumped, focusing chakra and using it to reach the rooftop.

A black bundle lay there, draped over a peak. Iruka headed toward it, hope and fear both leaping through him.

He put a hand on the bundle's shoulder, and turned it.

Kakashi whimpered. His single visible eye, the other once more covered by his forehead protector, opened slightly. "Iruka?"

Iruka took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "What are you doing here?"

Kakashi started to smile; Iruka could see the movement of his eye, the shape of his face changing. "You said to get out."

"Of the kitchen. I said to get out of the kitchen," Iruka growled. He put a hand on the side of Kakashi's face, the only skin showing.

The man was freezing.

"Hold on," Iruka said, and then grabbed Kakashi's wrist and ankle and pulled him up and over, slinging the lanky man across his shoulders. He nearly slipped on the way off of the roof, focusing his chakra quickly again to keep from plunging to the street below.

"You still mad at me?" Kakashi mumbled.

"Yes," Iruka answered instantly. "Right now, compassion is overriding that. Don't expect it to be true later, though."

Kakashi just hung limply.

By the time he got to the hospital, Kakashi was almost entirely unresponsive. Iruka burst through the doors, let Kakashi drop onto a gurney--to Kakashi's whimpered protest--and gave into the urge to cough.

They were surrounded by medical ninja almost instantly.

"He left the apartment, and by the time I found him he was like this," Iruka said to the million and one questions. He was still shaking, teeth chattering so hard now he could barely speak. Kakashi was nearly as bad, his skin almost blue, barely arguing as they stripped him of his shirt and pants, tossing a blanket over him as they went. Next thing Iruka knew, they were pushing him down onto a gurney as well, pulling his jacket off. His hair was a tangled mass when they were done, and he batted at hands that were aiming for his waistband. "I'm fine!" he tried to yell, but had to stop due to another coughing fit.

Kakashi coughed, too, as if in sympathy, but it was frighteningly weak. Then he was gone, wheeled down the hall and through double doors.

"You're soaked, and freezing," a nurse said, draping a blanket over his shoulders. Another nurse was pulling off his boots, while the first one shoved him back to his feet. Someone yanked his sweatpants right off him, and he yelped, suddenly almost-naked under the blanket.

"This way," the first nurse said, shoving him not very gently toward the doors.

"But I'm fine!" Iruka protested, shivering too hard to put up any kind of a decent fight.

"You've been in the rain for who knows how long, you're soaked, you're freezing, and you've used up most of your chakra--let me guess--carrying Kakashi across slick rooftops? Did it ever occur to you to use the street?"

He didn't answer, but glowered mightily at her instead. Then he was settled in a room, a mug of hot tea cradled between both hands, most of him under piles of blankets.

"You're staying here for the night," the nurse said, a note of absolute authority in her voice. "You can keep an eye on each other."

It was then that he noticed the other occupant of the room was Kakashi, bundled up in nearly as many blankets, and hooked up to a beeping machine.

Iruka cursed softly as the door closed.


"Shut up."

Amazingly enough, Kakashi did.


Kakashi's hope that he could talk at Iruka until the Chuunin forgave him was dashed when they informed him he had another two days to remain in the hospital. Iruka left that same morning, and they put an ANBU guard on the door.


He considered writing a letter, but he wasn't so good at that. He also wasn't sure what to say. "Dear Iruka. I messed up. You messed up. Want to mess up together?" didn't seem right. Neither did, "Dear Iruka, at least I didn't lie."

So he stared at the ceiling and tried to plan what to do next.


Iruka shuffled papers and tried to keep his mind on his job.

He hadn't seen Kakashi in three days. He hadn't even thought about Kakashi. Or, rather, he had tried not to think about Kakashi, but had failed miserably.

Iruka sighed. Genma looked up at him, questioningly.

"Nothing," Iruka said, shuffling papers.

Genma just kept looking at him. The senbon he'd stuck in his mouth flipped from one side to the other, though his expression didn't change.

"Genma--" Iruka started, then stopped. He began to blush. He could feel it, crawling up his neck.

Genma's eyebrows rose.

"That is, would you like to go get, ah, tea?" He shuffled his papers and didn't look up. The blush grew.

He could feel Genma staring at him. "Wouldn't that upset Kakashi?"

Anger sliced through him. "I don't care if it upsets Kakashi," Iruka snapped. "We're not dating. I'm not even sure I like him." He picked up the pile of already straight papers and bounced the ends on the desk, straightening them again.

"All right," Genma said slowly. "We can go get tea."


Kakashi stood in his little apartment, looking around unhappily. It seemed too big. Which was strange, because it was smaller than Iruka's. Still, it was . . . lonely. And cold. There were no pictures on the walls, and his refrigerator was a normal white. Iruka's was white, too, but drawings and photos, either by his students or of his students, were held on with magnets.

Kakashi didn't even have magnets.

He wasn't sure how to fix it. How to make his apartment comfortable, like Iruka's had been.

He needed Iruka. There were no two ways around it.

Within minutes he was on his way to the other man's apartment, traveling over rooftops and leaping from building to building. He was winded by the time he got there; another sign of his continuing weakness, though he was almost entirely better.

Kakashi jumped to a window, clinging outside and peering in.

No one was there.

Frowning, he leapt to the ground and considered his next option.

The mission office. It was just after five o' clock, and Iruka often stayed a bit late, finishing up paperwork or arguing with Genma. He was probably still there.

Kakashi jumped back to the roof, sprinting toward the large building at the center of the village.

He was panting hard by the time he got there, and swung in through an open window rather than jumping to the ground and using the door.

Iruka had to be at the office. He had to be, because Kakashi needed to apologize and win him back, somehow, even though he'd never really had him in the first place, and--


It was empty.

Kakashi slumped onto a desk. Iruka wasn't there. He wasn't at his apartment. Kakashi didn't know where else to look.

He wouldn’t give up. There was always a way to do something, if you just put your mind to it. He'd gotten through many impossible missions with that belief, and he'd get through this.

Eyes narrowed, Kakashi formed seals and dropped, slapping both hands on the ground.

With a puff of smoke, Pakkun appeared, peering up at him with his usual look of disgruntlement. "What?" the dog growled.

"I need you to track down Iruka."

Pakkun looked around. "You brought me all the way here for that? There doesn't seem to be a battle . . . "

"No, no, we had a fight, and--would you please just do it?" Kakashi said, folding his hands over his chest and giving his half-lidded glare.

Pakkun sat down. "No."

"What?" Kakashi asked, unimpressed.

"No. This isn't healthy."

Kakashi eyed the pug.

Pakkun eyed him back.

"I'll buy you a beef steak that's as big as you are," Kakashi said, finally.

Pakkun's ears lifted. "Two."

"Two," Kakashi agreed.

Pakkun stood, his nose to the ground, and started sniffing.

It didn't take long for him to catch the scent, and then they were off, racing out of the office and down the street. Pakkun darted through the crowd, nearly leaving Kakashi behind. The ninja barely managed to keep the dog in sight, twisting and leaping to keep from knocking people over. After a moment a path started to clear for him, as the people in the village realized who he was.

They probably thought he was on some sort of mission. Close enough.

Kakashi caught up to Pakkun just outside the doors to a tea house, and they went inside together.

"What's he doing here?" Kakashi muttered.

"Genma's scent's been along the whole time," Pakkun growled.

Kakashi's heart stuttered. He played it nonchalantly. "Oh?"

Pakkun just woofed, and looked up at a single occupant of a little table.

Genma looked up at Kakashi. He smiled slightly. "Hi."

"Yo," Kakashi said, settling back on his hips, hands in his pockets. "Where's Iruka?"

Genma nodded toward the back of the room. "Bathroom."

"You're in my seat," Kakashi said calmly.

"No, I’m in the seat Iruka asked me to sit in," Genma answered.

Kakashi smiled. Then he pulled his hands out of his pockets, and started making seals.

"All right, all right," Genma yelped, leaping up out of the chair. "I told Iruka this wasn't a great idea," he muttered, leaving the place.

"What about my steak?" Pakkun asked.

Kakashi glanced down at him. "Later."

Pakkun whuffed and trotted out the doors.

Kakashi waited. And waited. And waited. And finally, when he was getting ready to go into the bathroom after Iruka, Iruka appeared at the table.

"What are you doing here?" Iruka snapped, arms folding over his chest. "And where's Genma?"

"Genma had to go," Kakashi answered quickly, standing as well. Better that way to block Iruka, if the Chuunin should try to leave. "And I came to apologize."

Iruka just stared at him. "But you were right," he said finally, the words oddly nice.

Kakashi tensed.

"I am pathetically needy, and let people do things they shouldn't, and continue to like them. So I'm trying to change. Starting with you. Go away."

Kakashi flinched. "I'm sorry," he began.

Iruka walked toward the door.

Luckily, he had to walk past Kakashi to get there. Kakashi stepped in his path, grabbing the other man's wrist just for good measure.

Iruka jumped back, snatching his hand away. "I'm not interested in you, Kakashi," Iruka said, his voice rising.

The people at the nearest tables glanced their way, then studiously went back to their tea.

"Please, just let me explain," Kakashi said, nearly begging. Iruka was the first friend he'd made in a long time. He was starting to think Iruka was significantly more than that, though he didn't have much experience in relationships.

"I don't want to hear it," Iruka snapped. "Get out of my way."

Kakashi took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'm sorry for what I did. It was wrong, and I was an ass, and--"

Iruka tried to walk past him again.

Kakashi grabbed the man's jacket. "Someone I respect once said everyone's redeemable," he said quietly.

Iruka froze, back to Kakashi.

They stood there for a moment, silent and still. "Please," Kakashi said. "Just tea. If you still don't want to talk to me then--I'll go. And I'll leave you alone. Just tea."

Iruka looked over his shoulder, brown eyes burning. "Tea," he said finally. Very stiffly, he turned and walked back to the table.

Chapter Eleven

Iruka held his teacup in both hands, examining the design on the outside, feeling the little ridges with callused hands. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to give Kakashi another chance. There had been too many emotional ups and downs in the last few weeks, and he wasn't ready for any more.

"I went back to my apartment," Kakashi said, after they'd been quiet for a long time.

Iruka grunted.

"It's not as nice as yours."

Iruka glanced up at the Jounin, then away.

"I thought you might know why. Or how to fix it," Kakashi said.

Iruka was tempted to say 'no,' that he had no idea how to fix it. Somehow, he couldn't. He could leave, but he couldn't refuse help when it was so easy to give. "You just need some pictures. Maybe more furniture," he said grudgingly.

"Pictures of what?" Kakashi asked.

Iruka sipped tea, then watched it swirl in the bottom of his cup. "Friends. Family."

"I have pictures of those."

Iruka smiled reluctantly, remembering the photos on the shelf. "You have two. Put up some more."

"I don't have any more," Kakashi murmured.

Iruka glanced up. Kakashi was glaring at the teacup he held. Genma's teacup. "So take some pictures of your friends, and put them up." He didn’t try to hide his exasperation.

Kakashi twirled the cup, then sipped. "I don't really have friends to take pictures of."

Iruka watched him. The man looked up, and Iruka looked back down at his tea. He poured more from the pot, watching steam curl. How to explain? Finally, he took a deep breath. "When you wanted to have dinner," he asked slowly, "who did you borrow clothes from?"

Kakashi frowned. "Genma. Raidou. Only, I asked Gai and Asuma first. And Kurenai was there, though I'm not sure why . . ."

"And the table?"


Iruka nodded and looked at Kakashi expectantly.

Kakashi still looked like he didn't understand the point.

Iruka made a noise in frustration, a small sound in the back of his throat. "Kakashi, Kurenai was there because she likes you. So do Raidou, Genma, Gai and Asuma, or they wouldn't have helped. The only reason you're not friends with them is because you don't ever ask them to do things. They're left with the assumption that you don't want to be friends. I bet if you asked Asuma to dinner, he'd go."

Kakashi frowned. "I'm not interested in him like that . . ."

"No, I mean as friends," Iruka said, nearly laughing at the look on Kakashi's face. He caught himself just in time. He was still angry, after all.

Kakashi looked thoughtful. "What if I do it wrong?"

"I think the fact that you're trying will make up for it," Iruka said softly.

The Jounin glanced at him. This time, Iruka didn't look away. "Will you help me?"

Iruka went back to staring at his tea. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to get involved," he muttered.


The word was so soft, Iruka almost didn't hear it. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

"Iruka . . ." Kakashi started, and stopped.

Iruka looked at him. Kakashi wasn't squirming, because he never did, but he looked like he wanted to. "I didn't mean to hurt you." The man stopped, frowning into his tea, as if this was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

Iruka suspected it probably was.

"I was an ass, and . . . I apologize. But I rea--" His teeth closed with a click. Kakashi stared hard at the tabletop. "I'll try not to do it again." He looked up, finally, the single eye almost pleading. Pleading to understand, Iruka guessed, because Kakashi couldn't find the words.

Iruka wondered if the man even understood what he was feeling.

Iruka looked away. "I'll help you make friends," he said finally. "But nothing more."

Kakashi just nodded, obviously relieved to have that much.

It hurt. Iruka stared down at his hands.


"Why don't you ask Asuma if he'd like to have dinner at your place?" Iruka suggested, sitting at the counter in the little ramen shop two days later.

Kakashi shook his head. "He might think I like him like that."

Iruka sighed internally. "So ask both him and Kurenai. Then they'll know it's just friendly."

Kakashi was silent for a long time.

"What?" Iruka asked.

"What if they say no?"

"They won't say no. Unless it's a bad day, in which case you just change days."

"They might say no."

Iruka ground his teeth and rubbed the scar across his nose. "You won't know unless you try."

Kakashi picked at his ramen, then finally pushed the bowl away. "What should I say?"

"Just ask them if they'd like to come to dinner," Iruka said, not for the first time. He was beginning to feel a bit like a recording.


"Kakashi," Iruka snapped. He took a deep breath, then tossed money on the counter. "I have to get back to work. I'll talk to you later tonight."

Kakashi nodded, still sitting hunched over. "All right."

Many years ago . . .

On his ninth birthday he found himself outside the prison, sitting on the steps, a flower in his hand. He hadn't seen his mother in four years. He was starting to forget what she looked like.

He twirled the flower, peering down at it. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should go now.

The door opened, and a guard stepped out. "Hatake Kakashi?"

Kakashi jumped, and looked up.

"This way."

Too late to run. He stood and walked after the guard, down long, empty corridors. Their steps echoed, even when he tried to walk silently. After a long time, they stopped at a set of double doors. The guard pulled out keys that chattered noisily on their ring, and shuffled through them until he'd found the right one. The door opened with the smell of rust and too much oil used too late, and Kakashi found himself looking at yet another set of doors. He followed the guard up to those, and they stopped.

A metal grate was in the center of them, giving him a limited view of what was inside. A room, with a bench on one side. He couldn't see anything else.

"Get up here, Hatake," the guard barked.

Kakashi jumped, looking up. Then he realized the man wasn't talking to him, and he went back to staring at the door. His heart thundered, hammering almost painfully in his chest, and he was nearly crushing his flower.

His mother was in that room. The only family he had left in the world, and she was inside there, just a few feet from him.

He couldn't decide how he felt about that. Other than so anxious he was nearly sick. He hadn't told anyone he was coming here. Didn't want the questions, and the shame that went with having a parent who was a traitor. Having a parent who killed himself was bad enough.

"Hatake!" the man shouted again.

Kakashi's nails bit into the stem of his flower.

"Go away," a female voice called back.

The guard glanced down at Kakashi, then back into the room. "You've got a visitor."

There was a moment of silence. "Who?"

Kakashi got another look. He licked his lips and said, "Kakashi," as softly as he could.

"Kakashi!" the man bellowed.

They waited. Kakashi didn't fidget because ninja didn't. He waited quietly, perfectly still, breathing through his nose so his mask didn't puff away from his face.

When she spoke again, it was soft. "Tell him to go away. I don't want to see him."

Kakashi didn't move for a long moment. Not until the guard reached out to touch him, to put a big hand on his shoulder. Then he pulled back, slicing a disdainful look up at the guard with the best 'stay away' attitude he knew how to pull. He turned, and walked quickly from the prison.

"Kid, wait," the guard called.

Kakashi broke into a run, out through the main doors, down the steps. He dropped the flower in the mud and bolted, out the long expanse of yard, through the gates, feet slipping and sinking in the soft earth. Into the forest.

She didn't even want to see him.


Kakashi sidled into the mission office door, hands in his pockets, nodding once at Genma.

The senbon in Genma's mouth flicked to the other side in acknowledgement.

Iruka looked up, then back down at the papers he was stuffing into a satchel. "Did you ask Asuma?"

Kakashi hesitated. "No," he said finally.

Iruka looked up again, a frown drawing a line between his brows. "No? Why not?"

He'd tried. He'd stood over the table Asuma and Kurenai were at for several minutes, stuttering and making a fool of himself. Somehow, the right words just wouldn't come. In fact, no words would come. They talked awkwardly about missions and the Hokage for a few minutes, and then Kakashi had fled.

Kakashi waited in silence until Iruka had packed his bag and hoisted it, and then he followed the other man out the doors, down the hall. "I couldn't," he said at last. "I don't know how."

Iruka was obviously annoyed. He'd been vaguely annoyed ever since that night. At this point, Kakashi wasn't certain it would ever go away. He might just have screwed things up that badly.

"What do you mean, you don't know how? You just say, 'Asuma, Kurenai! Want to have dinner at my place on Friday?' and see what they say."

"I can't do that," Kakashi muttered, slouching down the corridor. "You can't just walk up to someone and ask them--"

They turned a corner and nearly ran into Shizune, carrying a large stack of bound scrolls. She yelped and nearly dropped them, and only Iruka's quick reflexes kept them both standing.

Kakashi waited while they sorted everything out, Shizune smiling and apologizing, and Iruka doing the same. Then Iruka glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed at Kakashi, and turned back to the girl. "Shizune-san, I was thinking about going to the park tomorrow at lunch. Want to join me?"

She smiled, tossing her head to get hair out of her eyes. "Thanks, Iruka-san, but I've got too much work to do. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Maybe some other time, then," he said, and waved cheerfully as the woman went around the corner. Iruka turned to look at Kakashi. "Like that," he said.

Kakashi frowned. Iruka made it look so easy. "Maybe you should ask them," he suggested casually, following Iruka out of the building and toward his apartment.

"No. It's your dinner party. You ask them," Iruka said.

"But asking them to dinner at my place is different than asking them to join me at lunch," Kakashi said, frustrated but careful not to let it show. Then a terrifying thought occurred to him. "What if they say yes?"

"They're supposed to say yes," Iruka snorted.

"But if they say yes, and they show up, then what do we talk about?"

"Whatever comes up." Iruka looked at him expectantly.

It took Kakashi a moment to realize they were standing in front of his apartment. He frowned. Shouldn't they be continuing to Iruka's place? He looked at his door, then back at Iruka. "Did you want to come in?" he asked, confused.

"Do you want help with this or not?" Iruka barked.

Kakashi jumped, and opened the door.

Iruka walked in, toeing off his sandals.

Kakashi pulled off his own shoes, looking around his apartment anxiously. He hadn't planned for this, and his apartment was a mess. There was dust on the shelf above his bed, and bathroom things just sitting out on the edge of the shower, where anyone could see them, and--

He hurried there first, grabbing his shampoo bottle and turning to stuff it in the cupboard. He froze when he saw Iruka standing in the doorway, frowning. Not sure what else to do, Kakashi dropped his arm to his side and slightly behind him, hiding the bottle.

Iruka's frown deepened. "Kakashi, relax. Apartments are supposed to have personal things in them."

Kakashi glanced around. His razor was sitting on the sink, next to a can of shaving cream, and there were fine, silver hairs that hadn't quite washed down the drain.

"Kakashi," Iruka said again, stepping forward into the tiny bathroom. "Trust me." He stepped close enough that a deep breath would have connected them, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around the bottle of shampoo.

Kakashi refused to let it go.

Iruka tugged, brown eyes holding Kakashi's gaze. "Trust me," he said again.

Reluctantly, Kakashi released the bottle. Iruka stepped to one side, squeezing past him to set it back on the edge of the shower. "You asked me why my apartment was nicer than yours," Iruka said, straightening. "It's because my apartment looks like someone lives there. There should be your things sitting around. It's your apartment. That's okay."

Kakashi didn't respond. His hands itched to hide everything away again, make it as impersonal as possible. He wouldn’t give into that. He wouldn't.

He did, however, rinse the rest of the hairs down the sink before he left.

"Do you have a table?" Iruka asked, hands on his hips as he looked around.

"Just that one." Kakashi pointed to the little fold-out table he ate at; the one that flattened down against the wall.

Iruka sighed and scratched his head, digging a finger under his hair band. "For three people, you might consider borrowing a bigger one."

Panic struck again. "Three? You're coming too, right? Shouldn't there be four?"

Iruka opened his mouth, and Kakashi could see the denial there.

"Iruka!" he nearly shouted. "You can't leave me alone with this! What if I don't have anything to say? Or--"

"All right, all right," Iruka said. "I'll come. This once."

Kakashi calmed. "And you have to be here before they get here," he said anxiously, though he made sure it still sounded vaguely unimportant.

"What? Why?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi forced himself to settle back on one hip, seemingly relaxed, and answered calmly, "What if I do something wrong? You have to check things."

Iruka just looked at him for a moment, then finally shrugged and nodded. "All right. This once."

Kakashi took a deep breath, relaxing again. This hosting stuff was hard.

"So you're going to ask Asuma tomorrow, right?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi started to say yes. Then he scratched the back of his head and stuffed both hands into his pockets, attempting to keep his casual demeanor. Everything was spinning out of control. He could at least control that. "How?"

Iruka dropped his satchel on the floor and sat down on the futon. "Just walk up to him and ask."

Kakashi eyed the satchel. It was sitting there, all flopped over, and papers and scrolls looked like they might fall out at any moment. He reached down to pick it up and put it someplace safer, out of the way. Maybe in the closet.

"Leave it."

He froze and looked at Iruka, eyebrow raised.

"Just leave it there. It doesn't need to be picked up."

Reluctantly, Kakashi left it. They stood there, silently. It was mocking him. Practically screaming to be put away somewhere. Someone could trip on it, there. If a ninja broke in at that moment, and Kakashi had to defend them, he could step in that strap and--


He jumped. "Yes?"

"You're going to ask Asuma tomorrow, right?"

It was still sitting there. Slumped over. Like he was some sort of slob. "Ah, yes." A slob who left things lying around in his apartment, and didn't clean up after himself or his guests.


He jumped and looked up at Iruka again. "I'm sorry?"

Iruka stared at him for a minute. "If I let you put it somewhere, will you please pay attention?"

Kakashi nodded, relieved. Iruka moved his foot, and Kakashi snatched the bag up, opening his little closet and putting it on a hanger inside. He closed it and leaned against the door. "Shouldn't I at least pick up my shaving cream?" he asked, catching it through the open bathroom door out of the corner of his eye.

Iruka stood and closed the bathroom door. Kakashi quickly leaned forward and twitched the wrinkles out of the blanket that was spread across his futon before Iruka could sit back down.

Iruka made a bland expression that made Kakashi's blank expressions look outright emotive.

"You can't be doing things like that when you're having dinner," Iruka said.

"But it looks better."

"It's neurotic," Iruka responded.

Right. And he was trying to fit in. "All right," Kakashi said quietly.

"Now, pretend I’m Asuma, and you're going to ask me to dinner," Iruka said, fishing a pen out of his pocket and sticking it in his mouth in lieu of a cigarette. He looked away.

Kakashi fidgeted. Finally, he shoved his hands in his pockets, affected a casual air, and walked up to "Asuma." "Yo, Asuma!" he said cheerfully.

Iruka looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Kakashi. How are you?" Iruka asked in a deep voice.

Kakashi grinned at it, then quickly smothered that and tried to be serious. "I'm all right. You?"

"Oh, my knee is hurting again. Tsunade says I should keep off it, but then she assigns me missions . . ."

"Yeah," Kakashi sighed, commiserating. "She tells me I can't be in ANBU and then assigns me missions that are nearly that level anyway . . . "

Iruka was looking at him oddly.

"What?" Kakashi asked self-consciously.

"You're supposed to ask me to dinner, not get involved in a conversation," he said.

"Right. Of course," Kakashi said, smiling brightly to hide his fluster. "So, ah, Asuma . . . would you like to have dinner with me?" That sounded bad. "I mean, not in a romantic way, just--with you and Kurenai. And me. Not romantic, not with the three of us--or even two of us--" he stopped and wilted. "This isn't working."

"It's all right," Iruka said, settling back on his hands. "Let's start over." Once again, he looked at the far wall.

Kakashi took several deep breaths, then started again. "Yo, Asuma!"

"Hello, Kakahsi," Iruka said in his deep voice.

"I was wondering--that is, if you're free, and if you're not I understand--if you wanted to have dinner with me. At my apartment. Or elsewhere, if you'd--" he stopped again, and shook his head. "It's still not working."

Iruka sighed, stood, and pulled the pen out of his mouth. "Pay attention," he said sternly. He turned away, then turned back, smile bright on his face. "Asuma! I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with myself and Kakashi this Friday. Nothing fancy, just at his place."

Kakashi managed not to gape, but only because he'd practiced holding one expression for years. The Chuunin made it look so easy.

"Your turn," Iruka said, and sat back down.

Kakashi took a deep breath, and smiled brightly. "Yo, Asuma!"

Iruka looked up.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with myself and Iruka this Friday. Nothing fancy, just at my place."

Iruka's mouth kicked up in a smile before he straightened back up and assumed his Asuma-expression. "Hmm, well, I'm not sure. I think Kurenai and I have a date . . . "

"Iruka!" Kakashi snapped. "That's not what you're supposed to say!"

Iruka laughed, spitting out the pen. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. But if he does say that, then just say maybe another time, and walk away."

Maybe another time, walk away. He could do that. Kakashi nodded slowly, memorizing the words. Then he realized Iruka had stood and opened the closet--and was that ever a mess, what with his pants and shirts all mixed up right now--and was pulling out his satchel.

"What are you doing?" Kakashi asked, anxiety rising again.

"Heading home. It's late, and I have an early day tomorrow. Meeting with the school staff."

"But--I need more practice," Kakashi said.

Iruka smiled at him. "You'll be fine. Just relax. Asuma already likes you. Trust that."

Kakashi couldn’t trust that. Apparently it was obvious, because Iruka sighed and looked at the floor before looking back up. "Then trust me."

Kakashi swallowed. That he could do. Wordlessly, he escorted Iruka to the door, and watched him walk away down the street. Then he headed toward the mirror in the bathroom, and practiced his lines.

Chapter Twelve

Kakashi's palms were sweaty. He wanted to believe it was because he was wearing gloves, but he suspected otherwise.

He took a deep breath, and walked up to the table Asuma and Kurenai sat at, smiling brightly. "Yo Asuma I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with myself and Iruka this Friday nothing fancy just at my place." He realized afterward that he'd forgotten to pause. He felt his face turn pink and smiled brighter to hide it.

Asuma and Kurenai were both looking at him, Asuma with chopsticks halfway to his mouth. The man put them down, scratching at his beard thoughtfully. "I don't think I'm doing anything," he said after a moment. "Kurenai?"

"Sounds fun. What time should we be there?" she asked, turning red eyes on Kakashi.

Kakashi froze. Time? He and Iruka hadn't talked about time. There had to be a simple answer. Had to. All he could think about was what an idiot he looked like, though, standing there with his jaw hanging open--well, not really, but it was the idea of the thing--and at any minute they were going to take it back and why couldn?t he just go back to doing life-or-death missions all the time? They were so much easier.

"How about eight?" Asuma suggested after a moment.

"Eight. Yes. Eight. On Friday," Kakashi said, and smiled again. His jaw hurt.

"All right," Kurenai said, smiling not nearly as brightly. "It's a plan."

Kakashi nodded and backed away, his entire body trembling. It was done. Just like that. All that fuss, and they'd just said yes and set a time and everything was done.

He got out of the café and down an alley before he had to yank his mask down and throw up. This was hard. At least with Iruka, he'd already known the man liked him. This was--this was-- he couldn't imagine how people did this all the time.

He leaned against the wall behind him and stared blankly at the next building over. Then he realized what he'd just done. For the first time in his life, he'd invited not-friends to do something. And they'd said yes.

He grinned.


"What are you doing?" Kurenai asked, standing in Asuma's doorway, her long, black hair tied back. It spilled in curls down her spine, refusing to behave. "We're going to be late."

Asuma finished dismantling his table, then put all the relatively small pieces--nuts, bolts, legs--in a cloth bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Iruka called and asked me to bring my table. I guess Kakashi forgot he doesn't have one," he said with a smile.

If he recalled correctly--and he usually did--Kakashi was his age. Somehow, the man didn't seem it. He always seemed either much older or much younger, depending on the situation. Iruka, on the other hand, always seemed younger. Young, and wise in a common sensical sort of way. They made an interesting pair, and one that Asuma couldn't help but think would be good for each other. It wasn't like either of them had any family to get support from.

"Did you bring the sake?" Asuma asked, hefting the tabletop up onto his shoulder and holding it there with one arm.

Kurenai lifted the bottle, watching him with bemusement in her red eyes. "This could be a very strange night," she said, lips curling upward.

Asuma walked toward the door, pausing to bend and kiss her carefully. Nothing made him feel as big as Kurenai did, with her pale skin and slender body. He waited afterward, while she rubbed the lipstick off his mouth with a steady thumb. "Probably," Asuma said, when it was safe to speak again. "But I'm glad Kakashi's finally showing an interest in other people. Not healthy, the way he holes himself up . . ."

"He's a grown man," Kurenai reminded him as he headed out the door. "He can do as he pleases. Should I lock the door?"

Asuma turned to look back. "Why bother? In a village full of ninja, if someone wants in, they'll get in."

Kurenai sighed and shook her head. "I still say it's safer to lock it."

Asuma only grunted, used to this particular exchange, and headed down the street.

It didn't take long to reach Kakashi's apartment; he still lived in the Jounin bachelor housing, despite the fact that most Jounin moved out when they could afford it.

Asuma started to knock, then paused. There was a heated discussion going on inside, and he couldn't decide if it would be better to wait, or to just knock. He glanced at Kurenai.

That's when he realized what they were saying.

"It looks dirty." That was Kakashi, the words rushed for his standards, and still slow for anyone else's.

"It looks fine. Everyone has toothpaste tubes in their bathroom. Leave it." And Iruka, speaking utterly calmly.

"I can't just leave it! What if--"

"Kakashi, trust me. It'll be fine."

Breaking this up could only help them, Asuma decided, and knocked. There was a moment of silence. Then footsteps, and the door was yanked open.

Kakashi looked strained, even with the mask. His forehead protector was gone, somewhere with the rest of his uniform, Asuma guessed, though he wore black uniform pants. His shirt was black, too, but button-down. Asuma was certain he'd seen it in Raidou's closet before. He didn't say anything, just smiled jovially and greeted Kakashi.

It took the smaller man a moment to relax. Kurenai, bless her heart, took her cue from Asuma and just acted like it was normal to stand in someone's doorway rather than walking in. Or maybe she figured that one out on her own. She was smart that way; observant of people, though she tended to be quiet.

Eventually, Kakashi moved. They stepped inside, slipping off their shoes. Asuma carried the table past Iruka, who was also showing signs of strain, and glanced around the tiny apartment.

Tiny. Only one room, with a half-wall that separated the kitchen. At least the bathroom was separate. He remembered his own bachelor apartment being bigger than this. "Where would you like me to put the table?" he asked cheerfully.

It took them a few minutes to set it all up, and Iruka pulled blankets and pillows off the futon and out of a closet to sit on. For a moment, Asuma thought Kakashi might protest. Then the slender man smiled again, and excused himself to the bathroom.

"Kakashi made dinner," Iruka said, keeping half an eye on the door. "His cooking is quite good, so I'm sure you'll like it." He walked to the little nightstand beside the bed, opened the top drawer, and pulled out two photographs. Calmly, he put them on the shelf above the bed.

"We brought sake," Kurenai offered, holding the bottle up once more.

"Thank you!" Iruka said, beaming. "Should I open this now?"

They all made positive noises, and Iruka headed into the kitchen. A moment later, Kakashi came out of the bathroom. He looked around, appearing slightly less flustered, then realized Iruka was in the kitchen and went dashing in. There was a whispered conversation, and Iruka was shoved around the wall.

He looked unimpressed. "Kakashi's a bit paranoid about his meal getting wrecked," he said in a dry voice.

"Kurenai gets the same way," Asuma said, grinning, even knowing she was going to hit him.

She hit him. He moved with the blow, absorbing most of it, and laughed.

"Just don't break anything," Iruka said, smiling as he walked into the bathroom. He opened a cupboard and pulled out a razor, shaving cream, and various other everyday items, setting them on the sink or in the shower. When he caught Asuma's gaze in the mirror he just shook his head and mouthed, "Don't ask."

Asuma smothered a laugh.

"All right," Kakashi said, appearing suddenly from the kitchen. "If you'll just give me some room, I have dinner . . ."

Everyone shifted out of the way. The smells filling the apartment were wonderful, slightly spicy but not burning Asuma's sinuses. Kakashi set several dishes down, then put out plates and cutlery and little sake cups. "Does anyone need anything else?" he asked, glancing over the table.

"Water," Iruka suggested.

Kakashi vanished, appearing a moment later with several glasses of water. After another moment's hesitation, they all sat down to dinner.

Asuma didn't recognize most of it. But, he was willing to try anything, if only because Kakashi was still looking anxious. It helped that Kurenai was courageous, and took several large bites of several different things, proclaiming them all amazing.

Asuma tried something orange carefully. It was good, he had to admit.

"You made all of this?" Kurenai asked, a combination of awe and jealousy in her voice.

Kakashi just nodded, obviously pleased.

"Maybe you could teach some things to Asuma," Kurenai muttered.

"Hey, now! I can cook!" He leaned closer to Iruka and added conspiratorially, "I make the best ribs in Konoha."

"He does," Kurenai said supportively. "Unfortunately, that's all he makes."

Asuma shrugged good naturedly. "Who needs more when one is perfect?"

After that, Kakashi seemed to relax. They ate, and talked, and it didn't take much time at all for Kakashi to return to his dry wit and half-lidded gaze. The mask was a little odd--moreso, because even though Asuma knew the other Jounin was eating, he never actually saw Kakashi take the mask down. He hadn't really expected the man to be wearing a mask in his own home, anyway, though he wasn't sure what he was expecting. It was such a part of Kakashi now that he had to wonder why he even noticed--except that with the forehead protector gone, it seemed more obvious. Yes, that was it.

Without the forehead protector, Kakashi?s expressions were clearer. Now, Asuma could almost see whenever some sort of neurosis would start to come over the other man. The Sharingan would twist for a moment, his eyes shifting suddenly. Hands would tense, though he was too good a ninja to actually move, and he'd look at Iruka.

Iruka, smiling, would suggest he get someone a glass of water or more sake, or he'd suggest something else to distract the Jounin, and Kakashi would leap up to do so--often stuffing something in a drawer or vanishing into the bathroom for a moment on the way. Afterward, Iruka would calmly excuse himself, and go put back whatever Kakashi had hidden away.

Kurenai was right; dinner was strange. But, still, it was an entertaining one, and the conversation between bouts of neuroticism was good--even if Kakashi was acting unlike himself.

Iruka was good for Kakashi, Asuma decided. He wasn't sure yet what Kakashi brought to the equation, but that was all right.

Once the food was all gone--Asuma freely admitted he ate most of it--he smiled and stood. He needed a cigarette. The need was buzzing under his skin, gnawing at his consciousness. "If you'll excuse me," he said, already feeling for his pack, tucked safely in his pocket, "I'm just going to step outside for a smoke." He had the distinct impression that if he tried to smoke inside, Kakashi might throw him through a window. Not that Kakashi had ever said anything about his smoking, but the place was very clean.

Iruka, ever the polite host, offered to join him.

Kakashi's head snapped up from where he was stacking dirty dishes. "Oh. Ah, me too," he said, looking frantically at Iruka.

Iruka grabbed his arm, took the dishes right out of his hands and set them back on the table, then smiled firmly. "You stay here and talk with Kurenai."

Kakashi paused. Then he grinned brightly and turned to Kurenai. "Of course. What was I thinking?"

Iruka turned and followed Asuma from the room.

The communal patio was empty at this time of night. Asuma wasted no time in lighting up and taking a long draw, smoke curling through his mouth and lungs. He felt almost instantly better. He blew it out in a long stream, then glanced over at Iruka. "So, you and Kakashi . . . ?"

Iruka's mouth tightened. "No."

Asuma didn't react, though he wanted to. "Really," he said. "I'd heard--"

"We were," Iruka sighed. "We decided it wasn't working. I'm teaching him to make friends, and then we'll go our separate ways."

Asuma glanced toward the apartment. He could see shapes through the window; Kakashi and Kurenai at the table. Kurenai was saying something, gesturing with her hands in that graceful way she had. "What happened?" he asked. As soon as the words were out, though, he knew Iruka wouldn't answer. They weren't close, and from what he did know of the Chuunin, Iruka was fairly private.

"Oh, nothing really. But you and Kurenai . . .?"

Asuma waved a hand. That was public knowledge. Not that either of them had ever announced it, but anyone who hadn't figured it out was as dense as a brick. Not that that stopped Gai from asking her out occasionally, but that was Gai. Asuma was pretty sure that one of the boys in Kurenai's team had a crush on her, too, but she would hear none of that. Not like a thirteen-year-old was a threat anyway, but it was funny.

They made small talk while Asuma finished his cigarette--quickly, because Iruka kept glancing in the window, as if checking on Kakashi. Asuma didn't ask about their relationship again; he figured he'd just get another diversion. Still, there was more than one way to skin a cat.

When they went back inside, Kakashi immediately stood and started taking plates into the kitchen. Iruka helped him, then bodily dragged him back out, muttering something about washing them later.

Asuma just sat back and waited for things to wrap up, knowing they would soon. When Kurenai said she needed to go--early mission the next morning--and Iruka said he did, too, Asuma just smiled. "I think I'll stay and help Kakashi with the dishes," he said calmly, a toothpick in his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue, and ignored the panicked vibes coming from the Jounin.

"Iruka?" Kakashi asked.

"I have to go," Iruka said firmly. "You two have fun."

There could have been an awkward silence after they left, but Asuma filled it almost instantly. He picked up the rest of the dinner dishes off the little table and carried them into the kitchen, Kakashi following him uncertainly.

"So, what happened with you and Iruka?" Asuma asked, setting the dishes down and moving away. Despite the fact that Kakashi had asked them over, he was obviously uncomfortable with them fiddling with his things; Asuma guessed that actually helping to wash dishes would be unforgivable.

"Nothing happened with us," Kakashi said with a casual shrug.

"Hn." Asuma leaned against the sink, arms folded over his chest, watching Kakashi run water. "Iruka says you aren't dating."

Kakashi said nothing, pouring dish soap into the sink.

"I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on," Asuma said, exasperated.

"There's nothing to help with." Kakashi scrubbed a bit of cheese off a plate with his fingernail, then dunked it back in the soapy water.

"But you were dating, and now you're not," Asuma pointed out.

Kakashi made a noncommittal noise and examined his plate.

This was more like the Kakashi Asuma was used to. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. "Why aren't you dating?" he asked bluntly.

Kakashi thought about it for a long time, eyes half-lidded and regarding Asuma sideways. He was obviously debating on how much to say. Then, finally, he shrugged. "Iruka doesn't want to date me."

"Why not?" Asuma said, refusing to let this go. Iruka was the healthiest thing that had ever happened to Kakashi, and he worried about the ninja.

Kakashi shrugged. "Oh," he said breezily, "I said some things that made him angry."

The swirling Sharingan belied that he was as nonchalant about it as he'd have Asuma believe.

Asuma tucked his chin into his chest, thinking. "You probably don't remember Iruka as a kid, do you? He was a few years younger than us, and you were gone on missions all the time . . ." He stopped, trying to think back.

Kakashi was watching him out of the corner of his eye; Asuma could feel it.

"Iruka had a temper. He's learned to control it a lot better, but when he was a child--well, I haven't seen many people with a temper like it. Not only did he have a temper, but he was constantly in trouble. See, he'd retaliate. He'd do the most rotten things to people, or places, or monuments. The only thing I never saw him do was hold a grudge. In fact, he'd bend over backward to make people like him--or at least laugh at him." Asuma frowned, remembering. "It was actually kind of sad, sometimes," he said softly. Then he shook his head, bringing his mind back to the present. "My point is, he might not want to talk to you now, but I think he'll get over it. You just need to give him some time."

Kakashi was drying things now, very slowly. "I don't think that'll work," he said finally. "By the time he'll have calmed down, we won't be seeing each other much."

Asuma rubbed his chin thoughtfully, scratching at his scruff. "You just need time together. He'll remember he likes you." And if he didn't, well, maybe they weren't as good together as Asuma thought.

Kakashi was watching him now, overtly, waiting.

"Genma, Iruka, and I were going to go camping next weekend," Asuma said slowly. "Why don't you come? I'll ask Raidou, too, so Iruka doesn't get too suspicious."

Kakashi straightened slightly. "All right."

"And don't talk to Iruka until then. Give him space. He needs some room to stop being angry."

Kakashi nodded, settling back on his hips, eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled behind the mask. "I can do that."

Asuma grinned, teeth clenching on his toothpick. "We'll see what we can manage. You're not lost yet," he said, and stood up, no longer leaning against the counter. "Next weekend, then. I'll give you details later. Just--make sure not to bring any camping equipment. Leave everything to me."

Kakashi nodded.

Asuma grinned even wider, then headed toward the door. Kakashi walked with him, though he got the impression it was more to make sure he didn't touch anything than to say goodbye. Asuma didn't take offense. Everyone had their own little neuroses. Frankly, he was surprised that Kakashi had let them all stay as long as he had.

"Next weekend," Asuma said in farewell, slipping on his boots and heading out the door.

"Later," Kakashi responded, and closed it behind him.

Long ago . . .

Kakashi sat in his bachelor apartment, staring at the blank wall. Behind him, fireworks shot through the air, and the light came in through the window. For a moment the wall exploded in color, and he could distantly hear cheering.

Maybe he should have stayed at Rin's party. But everyone there--well, they were all his age. They were talking about C and D ranked missions, and every time he tried to talk about his missions they looked at him funny. They talked about music, which he didn't listen to, and mutual friends he didn't know, and problems with their senseis, which he didn't have. There were a lot of people, and that made him nervous, and his Sharingan was starting to hurt from all the patterns the crowd made.

No, better to come home. He didn't fit there.

He wished the other Jounin hadn't all gone away. He'd asked them over, but they had plans. They were going to the adults-only place on the edge of the village, and since he was only fourteen, he wasn't allowed.

Kakashi swung his feet again. Color splashed against the wall. The window muffled the sound of the people watching outside.

Light flashed again, followed by the rumble and pop of fireworks.

He picked up a book, curling back on the futon, and read by the lights of the explosions. He didn't need people in his apartment, anyway. This way, it stayed clean. Quiet. He didn't have to worry about anyone messing things up, or getting too much information about him. Yes, it was better when it was empty.

Chapter Thirteen
Many years ago . . .

"Why are we doing this?" Kakashi asked, arms folded over his very small chest, brows drawn down almost comically.

His sensei didn't laugh, but it took great effort. Instead, the blond Jounin ruffled Kakashi's hair, just for the duck-and-glower he always got, and dropped the portion of camping supplies he was carrying. "For fun."

With a grateful moan, Obito dropped his supplies, too. "We're here?" the Uchiha boy said hopefully.

"We're here!"

"There's no point to this," Kakashi said, slightly louder this time, as if that might make his point more clearly.

"I'm going to share a tent with Sensei," Rin announced, "because you two are too close to my age, and that would be improper."

Obito snorted. "Like you ever worry about what's improper."

Rin stuck her tongue out at him.

Kakashi was giving the Jounin a pained looked. "I could be training right now."

"Kakashi," the man laughed, "even ANBU have fun sometimes. Just enjoy it. You're stuck with us for the next two days. Time to learn how to relax."


"How many people are coming?" Iruka asked, dropping his bags beside a tent and glancing around the clearing.

A firepit sat in the middle, lined with stones, already set up with wood and tinder. Logs and stumps had been dragged into a ring around it, and Genma's hammock swung between two trees.

"A bunch of people," Asuma said from nearby, where he was clearing rocks so he could pitch another tent. "Gai is bringing Raidou, and I asked Kakashi to come, plus you, me, and Genma's already here--hunting for firewood."

Iruka's eyebrows rose as he headed toward Asuma, helping to pull branches out of the way. "Quite a group. Kakashi's coming?"

Asuma nodded, spreading out the tent with sure movements. "It's good that he's finally branching out. I asked him after dinner last week."

Iruka pulled out long, slender lengths of bamboo, threading them through loops in the tarp. Within moments they had a two-man tent set up, and Asuma was moving on to another site. "That's good," Iruka said neutrally. He hadn't seen Kakashi all week. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. One the one hand, it seemed he'd fulfilled his mission; Kakashi was all right. On the other hand, he was starting to miss him, in an odd sort of way.

It was just that he was worried about the Jounin. That was all.

"Hey, we made it!" Raidou shouted, leaping down out of a large tree, Gai hot on his heels.

"Ha ha!" Gai laughed, hands on his hips and his teeth gleaming. "I beat Kakashi, as I said I would!"

Raidou rolled his eyes.

Kakashi jumped down out of the foliage, looking distinctly unimpressed. "Yes, Gai," he said in a voice that screamed he didn't care, "you won."

Gai's smile was replaced by a frown. "Kakashi! Always so cool! Acting like you don't ca--"

"I brought food," Kakashi said to the group at large.

Iruka perked up. "Really? What?"

"I brought ribs," Asuma reminded him darkly.

"So we'll be incredibly well-fed this weekend," Iruka said diplomatically, smiling as brightly as he could.

"Who wants to go swimming?" Iruka heard Genma call. He turned in time to see the Special Jounin drop an armful of firewood by the pit, letting it clatter and crash at his feet. Genma was already stripped down to his underwear and boots--no one wanted to walk barefoot on the forest floor.

"Me!" Raidou answered instantly, tugging off his shirt and dropping it on his pile of supplies.

"I've got two more tents to set up," Asuma said, glancing around. "And then I'll come."

An hour later had all of them down by the creek, nearly everyone stripped down to underwear or bathing suits or--in Kakashi's case--an extra pair of pants and his mask.

"You coming in, Iruka?" Raidou shouted from the headlock Genma had put him in.

"Maybe later," Iruka answered, sitting on a boulder in the sun, his arms around his knees.

"Iruka's shyyyyy," Genma singsonged, grinning wickedly.

Kakashi was looking at him oddly. "No, he's not," he said, eyes narrowed. "I've seen him half-naked around a million children."

Iruka ignored them all, stretching to lean back on his hands and bask in the sun. It was an odd group, and one that he'd fallen into quite by accident. They were all a bit older than he was, and all Jounin--or higher. Working in the mission office gave him access to people he wouldn't have really gotten to know otherwise.

They were a good group, he had to say.

Then he felt hands on his shirt, yanking forward and down. "Oh my god!" Raidou said, his head of brown hair in Iruka's face as he peered down. "He's got burn scars all over his chest!"

Iruka slapped Raidou's temple, bringing a leg up sharply. Anyone else he would have been kneed, but Raidou was a high level ninja; he dodged, laughing the whole time.

"You're a jerk," Iruka muttered.

Raidou flopped down next to him, still laughing, the burn scars across his face and chest shiny in the sun.

"I don't understand," Kakashi said, standing hip-deep in water and looking puzzled.

"He doesn't have any scars," Genma said, grinning at Iruka.

Iruka glared at him, but didn't really mean it.

Genma just grinned. "Raidou thinks that's why he never takes off his shirt."

Kakashi looked up at him, eyebrow quirked.

Iruka didn?t bother to say anything. There wasn't much to say, either. He could deny it, which would only make Raidou tease him more, or he could agree to it--which would only make Raidou tease him more. So he sat quietly and waited for the Jounin to lose interest.

"You should come swimming, Iruka," Raidou said, sprawled on the boulder and leaving a man-sized puddle.

"I don't feel like it," Iruka answered.

"What if we whined at you?" Raidou asked.

Iruka gave him his best Stern Sensei glare. "Don't."

It didn't work on Raidou. "Iiiiiiiirrrrrukaaaaaaaa," he said nasally. "Come swiiiiiiming with--"

Iruka lunged to his feet, grabbed the Jounin by his hair and underwear, and hauled him off the boulder.

As the Chuunin expected, Raidou wrapped himself around Iruka's waist and one leg, the threat unmistakable; I go, and you go, too.

That didn't matter so much, though. With a yell Iruka toppled them both off the rock and into the creek.

They emerged sputtering, hair flattened to their skulls. Laughing, Raidou slicked his back off his face, while Iruka dove under once more, swimming forward and coming up so his ponytail was at least out of his eyes.

"I can swim clear down to the bend and back!" Gai announced loudly. "Faster than you, my oh-so-cool rival!"

"Not now, Gai," Kakashi muttered.

"Oh, I don't know," Genma said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I think Kakashi could beat you . . ."

Iruka laughed as Gai's chest puffed out, and Kakashi gave Genma a dirty look. The Special Jounin only grinned wickedly.

"Now we must truly find out which of us is the faster swimmer!" Gai bellowed. "I have already beaten you once, my esteemed rival! Be aware if I beat you again, I'll have the title of most fearsome warrior in Konoha! And if you win, I'll--"

"Take down all the tents and bring them back yourself," Asuma interjected, floating on his back in the water.

"YES! Take down all the tents and bring them back to our beautiful city alone!" Gai's teeth glimmered.

Kakashi sighed. "All right," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "If you really want to."

"I do! On the count of three we'll--"

Kakashi turned and dove, striking off into the deeper area in the middle of the creek with powerful strokes.

"Ah, you are truly a master of being sneaky!" Gai shouted, and leapt after him.

"That was mean," Iruka laughed, pushing toward a deeper area where he could tread water without smacking his feet.

"Yeah," Asuma agreed, a sleepy smile on his face.

Raidou held a finger to his lips, sinking down into the creek until only his head peeked above. Silently, moving gracefully through the water, he crept toward Asuma.

"Don't," Asuma said.

Raidou stopped barely a foot from the bigger man. His eyes moved, looking first at Iruka, then at Genma. Then he jumped up out of the water and belly-flopped onto Asuma.

"Gah! You ass!" Asuma shouted as he went under.

Iruka and Genma laughed, Iruka sinking further down.

Distantly, they could still hear Gai and Kakashi splashing away, though it was mostly drowned out by Asuma and Raidou.

The sun sank below the treeline, leaving them in sudden shadow. Iruka, treading water, shivered. "I think I?m going to go start the bonfire," he said, twisting to grab hold of the overhanging ledge and swinging himself up.

Genma ducked under the water again, coming up with a mouthful and spitting it at Iruka. It fell short.

"Lovely," Iruka snorted. He padded away from the creek, wet feet slapping on the ground, muffled by leaves and heavy dirt. Behind him, he could hear Gai bellowing about his worthy rival, and how he would most certainly take down all the tents himself. Iruka grinned. Guess he'd lost.


An owl peered down at them, eyes reflecting the glowing fire, and hooted.

Genma hooted in return at it, then slugged back another gulp of beer. He sighed and leaned forward, head hanging between bent knees, giving Iruka's hands more room on his shoulders. "That feels soooooo good, 'Ruka," he said into the dirt. "I love you and want to have your babies."

Everyone laughed, then laughed harder when Raidou piped up with, "Careful! He's serious!"

Kakashi leaned back on his elbows, all long limbs and darkness in the flickering light, and watched. Iruka's hands were apparently magic, though he knew that himself. Muscles and tendons shifted, shadows growing and vanishing as strong fingers moved over Genma's back and shoulders, following lines of tension and pressing carefully on knots and nerve clusters.

"Oi! Iruka-hog!" Raidou finally called, standing unsteadily. "Share!"

"You already had him!" Genma yelled back. "It's still my turn!"

"Sake?" Asuma asked quietly.

Kakashi glanced up and smiled, content. "No, thank you."

"Hey, hey," Genma burbled. "You haven't had anything to drink, Kakashi. Want beer?"

"Wine?" Raidou offered.

"Pina colada?"

Everyone looked at Gai.

He smiled sloppily and took another sip, adjusting the little umbrella with precise care.

"No, thank you," Kakashi said again, a laugh in his voice. "I don't generally drink."

"This isn't generally," Genma slurred. "And once in a while won't hurt you."

"Besides," Raidou announced, managing to hold his head at a superior angle for just a moment, "it's a good way to say, 'I trust you all.'"

"I trust you to hold my hair back if I start barfing!" Genma shouted.

"Or at least to not let me sleep in it," Asuma said dryly.

Genma nodded solemnly. "It's a good way to say it, without all the sloppy, sappy stuff." He frowned and mouthed the last three words again.

"Do you trust us, my most esteemed rival?" Gai asked on a hiccup.

Kakashi looked at them all, slightly befuddled. Raidou and Genma had already moved on, swapping alcoholic drinks to see whose was better. Raidou carefully gave Iruka a taste of each so he could vote, too, without pausing in his massage. Most of it dribbled down Iruka's chin and into Genma's hair, but none of them seemed to mind too much. In fact, Genma thought it was hilarious.

Kakashi couldn't figure out how drinking was a matter of trust.

Asuma was grinning down at him. "Have a drink." He offered the sake bottle again.

Kakashi took it after another moment. "Shouldn't one of us be sober enough, in case--"

"Stop worrying. Have a drink." Asuma's eyes twinkled. "No one here's going to kill you in the middle of the night."

So that was how it was trust. Kakashi contemplated the bottle. Then, when no one was looking, he pulled down his mask and had a drink.

He nearly coughed it all back up, much to the hilarity of those present. "Thank you," he muttered good-naturedly.

"Remember that time we put stuff in Hayate's sake?" Raidou asked, sliding over to lean shoulder-to-shoulder against Genma.

"Oh, yeah. Like beer."

"And wine," Iruka laughed softly.

"And he spit it all over the fire," Genma continued, grinning and staring into the flames. "Only we'd forgotten to keep the fire going, so he managed to put it out . . ."

"And then it was dark, so we couldn?t get it started again," Raidou laughed.

"And Asuma and Genma ended up sleeping together--" Iruka said, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, that," Asuma groaned.

Kakashi looked at him, grinning.

"Genma gets horny when he's drunk," Asuma murmured.

"Cuddly!" Genma protested. Then he giggled, face rolling into Raidou's chest. "Horny, too," he muffled.

"And Hayate was so upset, because he thought he was going to get to sleep with Genma," Raidou cackled.

The three men, Iruka, Genma and Raidou, laughed uproariously for another moment, and then almost as suddenly went quiet.

A stillness came over the small clearing. A nightingale sang mournfully.

"To fallen teammates," Gai said softly, lifting his glass.

The others did as well, murmuring names into the dark, letting them hang and burn over the crackling fire.

Kakashi sipped sake, carefully this time, letting it spread heat into his stomach. He could feel the fumes in his nose, curling up through his sinuses as if he could breathe them back out again.

"I need a drink," Genma sighed.

Iruka patted his back like he would that of a dog he was particularly fond of. Raidou handed him wine.

"You stopped," Genma said, looking back over his shoulder.

"It's someone else's turn," Iruka answered.

Genma sighed and laid his face against Iruka's leg. "You sure?"

Iruka patted him on the head. Then he glanced up, catching Kakashi's eyes. He raised both eyebrows, as if asking a question.

Kakashi tried to think of what he might have missed. Then Asuma leaned down and whispered, "I think it's your turn."

Kakashi's eyebrows rose right back at Iruka.

Iruka laughed and tilted his head in a 'get over here' way.

"I think he needs to be told," Raidou stage-whispered.

"Kakashi, it's your turn!" Genma yelled.

He stood, and realized the ground was much farther away then he'd thought. He had to just wait a moment for it to stop falling farther.

"You really don't drink, do you?" Asuma said, laughing deep in his barrel chest.

"I'm just a bit dizzy," Kakashi defended. Then he carefully walked around the fire and plopped himself down in front of Iruka.

Iruka tugged at his shirt. "Take it off."

Buttons slipped through holes, and shortly Kakashi was as bare-chested as both Raidou and Genma. He sighed happily as warm hands rubbed carefully over his shoulders, fingers seeking out knots. "Are you still mad at me?" Kakashi asked quietly, while Genma and Raidou roughhoused alarmingly close to the fire.

Iruka sighed. "I suppose not."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Kakashi murmured.

Iruka slid his fingers up along the back of Kakashi's neck, pressing gently and smoothing out tension. "I know. But try to be a little less of an ass, will you?"

Kakashi smiled behind his mask, folding his knees and settling his elbows on them. "All right."

"Asuma!" Genma shouted, somehow having ended up in Gai's lap. "We should shadow-dance!"

"Shadow-dance?" Kakashi asked.

"Genma, we're too drunk to play shadow-dance," Iruka said.

"So we'll all have the same disadvantage!"

Raidou, lying on the ground, lifted both fists and cheered. "Shadow-dancing!"

Kakashi felt Iruka's forehead fall against his silver hair. "Oh, dear. This could get weird."


Chapter Fourteen

"Oh, shhh," Raidou whispered loudly, giggling against Genma's chest.

Kakashi clung desperately to his tree and thought, 'Act like a branch.'

"He's looking this way!" Iruka hissed.

Raidou buried his face against Genma. Kakashi could see the man's body still shaking with laughter.

The light from Asuma's lantern glittered through the trees.

"Crap! He's coming this way!" Iruka whispered, breath hot where he was crowding Kakashi in an effort to see.

Kakashi whipped around, dodging to the other side of the trunk, taking Iruka with him. He staggered and nearly fell, all his normal grace completely gone with the alcohol he was certain he'd peed out by now. Apparently, there was some left. A lot left. He grabbed for the tree, planting a hand on either side of Iruka's head and bracing himself.

Iruka was laughing silently, holding onto Kakahsi's waist. Kakashi suspected that if either of them let go, they'd both fall over.

Asuma's light swept over the trees; they barely remained in the shadows. Raidou yelped as Genma kicked him into the light and scrambled up, almost silently.

Luckily for him, Asuma was drunk, too, and didn't hear.

"Hi," Raidou said, squinting. He giggled.

Asuma snorted and handed him an extra lantern.

Raidou took it and sat down, waiting the few seconds the rest of them had to escape.

Kakashi grabbed Iruka and hauled him away through the forest. They were almost free when Gai appeared out of nowhere and beamed his lantern at them.

"Ha ha!" Gai bellowed. "Found you!"

Kakashi lifted a hand to shade his eyes, and realized he was still holding Iruka's arm.

The younger man was laughing quietly, leaning against his shoulder.

"Ah, the springtime of youth," Gai started on an oddly soft sigh.

Iruka laughed, and nearly pulled Kakashi over as he tipped. The Jounin staggered and grabbed hold of a tree branch. The world had never swirled so much--or so oddly pleasantly--before.

"Bedtime!" Genma announced, trouncing past them wearing only his boots and Asuma's big coat.

And just that suddenly, the game was over and everyone was heading back to the nearly dead fire and black tent-like shapes.

"Hmmm," Asuma said, weaving on his feet. "I didn't bring enough tents. Someone needs to share."

Kakashi saw Genma open his mouth to offer, and Asuma tromped on the Special Jounin's foot.

"Since you two already shared an apartment," Asuma said, turning toward Kakashi and Iruka and nearly continuing to swirl around, "do you mind sharing a tent?"

"Not at all!" Kakashi said brightly.

Iruka looked slightly befuddled, and muttered something polite.


They lay, each bundled in their own sleeping bags. Kakashi stared at the peak of the tent, where he could see the shadow of something crawling outside. Something small and bug-like.

"Do you miss her that much?" he asked the darkness.

Iruka turned to face him. "Miss who?"

Kakashi smiled behind his mask and watched the bug leap off their tent. It vanished. "Your mother."

"Of course."

They were quiet for a long time. Kakashi rolled over onto his side, keeping a few inches between his body and the younger man's. He could see the outline of Iruka's profile in the dark, but couldn't make out the scar. "What do you miss?"

Iruka smiled. His teeth were white, and his eyes were unfocused. Still half-drunk. "I miss her cookies."

"Cookies?" Kakashi laughed.

Iruka giggled in return, nodding dramatically. "They were so yummy." His grin faded to a soft smile. "And I miss the way she smelled."

Kakashi snorted softly. "How was that?"

Iruka rolled over and looked up at the other man sleepily. "Good."

The Chuunin was so close that Kakashi's eyes nearly crossed, trying to look at him. He felt warm all over. "Good?" he whispered.

Iruka nodded contentedly, eyelids drooping, hair tickling the other man's forehead. He was barely a blink away. When he spoke, his breath ghosted over Kakashi's throat. "You smell good. But not like her."

"I smell like campfire," Kakashi pointed out on a laugh.

Iruka grinned sloppily and shifted, coming the few inches closer.

Kakashi went perfectly still, feeling more than seeing Iruka squirm through his sleeping bag, until he had an arm free. He was laughing softly still, little drunken giggles that sent puffs of air to dance across Kakashi's neck. Then those careful fingers tugged the edge of his mask up--he stiffened, but they stopped far short of his chin.

He felt Iruka burrow closer. Heat curled over his neck, the little hairs prickling with the closeness of the other man. Still giggling, Iruka inhaled. Then the younger man flopped back, rolling away, and grinned up. "See? Good."

Kakashi swallowed and tried to gather thoughts that had left him entirely, apparently taking the rest of the alcohol in his bloodstream along for a good party.

"Oh," was all he could think of to say.

Iruka faced him once more, practically nose-to-nose. "She had brown eyes, like mine," he whispered solemnly.

Kakashi nodded, not sure what else he should do. Iruka's gaze was darting back and forth, and Kakashi realized he was focusing on each of his eyes in turn. First blue, then red, and back again. Iruka started squirming, and eventually got an arm up, a hand hovering slightly above them. There wasn't any room between them.

Kakashi waited, then quickly closed his eyes when he saw Iruka's hand lower. But the man, even drunk, was very careful.

Blind, Kakashi could feel the heat from Iruka's body. He swallowed, heard it through his bones, and felt skin gently touch his eyebrow. Fingers trailed up, following the long scar halfway up his forehead. Then, just as carefully, they ghosted down over his face, brushing along his eyelashes and hovering at the edge of his mask, tracing what had once been a gouge in Kakashi's face.

"Did that hurt?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi resisted the urge to open his eyes or pull away. His body was tingling, shivers trilling up and down his spine. He almost said no. Instead, he remembered the pain of the attack, and started to nod. But--he didn't want Iruka to move his hand. The man was still touching him, tracing the line of his cheekbone up and back, feathering over his skin. Kakashi wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

"Yes," he said. His voice was rough. He swallowed several times.

"It looks like it would hurt." Iruka's breath tickled his skin, across the mask. Fingers stuttered up the scar once more, brushed his eyelashes smooth, then up the arch of his eyebrow, pausing where the scar bisected it. "Your eyes aren't like my mother's at all," Iruka said solemnly.

Kakashi bit back a laugh. "No, probably not."

"Open your eyes?"

Kakashi did, carefully, half expecting a drunken index finger to poke him. But Iruka was very cautious.

And very close.

His brown eyes looked black in the dark. Pools of ink in his face.

"You have nice eyes," Iruka said, still so very somber.

Kakashi said nothing.

A thumb traced the scar again, just to his eyebrow, then Iruka's hand wrapped around the back of Kakashi's head and tugged.

Kakashi moved closer and down, not sure what to expect.

Iruka shuffled, moved in and up, and very, very carefully, breathed a kiss across the scar. "I'm sorry it hurt," he said. Then he flopped over onto his back, arm thrown away. "Night."

Kakashi waited a beat. Iruka's breathing evened out, and just like that the man was asleep.

Slowly, Kakashi rolled onto his back. He stared up at the peak of the tent, heart hammering.

He stayed awake for a very long time.

Long ago . . .

That stupid, arrogant, conceited, boorish, ill-mannered--

Rin got to Kakashi's doorway and didn't bother knocking. How dare he say something like that to her, in front of her parents? She was going to kill him. She kicked in his door.

It was probably only that that kept him from driving the blade in. She could see the bathroom mirror from her angle, could see the kunai he'd placed carefully at the Sharingan, could see blood--

Rin acted before she thought. She pulled out two kunai and threw them.

The glass in the mirror shattered. The blades ricocheted, the blunt ends spinning around and smashing into Kakashi.

She heard him drop, but nothing else. "Kakashi!" Rin shouted, bolting into the tiny apartment. She tore around the corner, one hand on the doorjamb to whip her body around faster.

Kakashi was slumped on the bathroom floor, his head bleeding, his eye bleeding.

"Kakashi," Rin said again, dropping to her knees and holding her hands above his torso, feeling his chakra. Drugged. She could sense it, making his energy move sluggishly. It was that, she suspected, that had slowed his reactions enough to let the kunai hit.

Rin grabbed under his arms and pulled hard, laying him out on the floor of the main room, then she knelt again, taking deep breaths and focusing.

The damage to the eye could have been severe if left for very long. She fixed that first, reattaching nerve endings and veins and tissue. Then she checked his head, where she'd gotten him. Nothing major there. She considered cleaning out the drug but--well, maybe that was what affected his actions. Maybe he was under a jutsus and would fight her when he woke.

As quickly as she could, she found some rope--old sheets that she tore, but good enough--and bound him to his futon. She laced it between his fingers so he couldn?Äôt move them, and stretched him tight so there wasn't any play in his limbs.

He was better at this than she was. He was a Jounin and she was only a Chuunin. She was taking no chances.

Before she woke him she walked back to the bathroom.

A pot of water, still steaming, sat on the counter. Several kunai rested on the edge. Their handles had been wrapped in cloth, and the blades themselves were hot. There was a paper seal--a fire one. She remembered seeing Kakashi use it once to cauterize a wound. And there was a half-empty bottle of pills. Rin frowned, picking them up and examining the label.

Pain killers. Incredibly high potency. She even recognized the name of the medical ninja who'd prescribed them.

Still holding the bottle, she walked back into the main room. She hadn't known he was taking these. She dropped to her knees beside the futon and felt for his chakra.

This was the disturbance. She was certain of it. She pulled the eyelid of his normal eye up, checking his pupils. They were dilated far past normal. His eyes were bloodshot, and the skin around them puffy. He looked like--

No. But he looked like--like he'd been crying. Kakashi didn't cry.

Rin took a deep breath, settling herself, and began to clear the drugs out of his system.

Twenty minutes later, he woke. He was too good a ninja to struggle immediately, so he lay very still for several seconds. So still Rin wasn't entirely certain he was conscious.

"Kakashi?" she asked.

His eyes snapped open, then closed again with a shudder. He tried to bring his hands down and discovered he'd been tied. His eyes opened again, and this time Rin saw fear, though only for a moment, before he got his face under control. He looked at her, and she could see muscles flexing subtly across his shoulders; testing the bonds.

Rin put a hand on his chest, and pretended like she didn't see him flinch. "Kakashi, I came in and you were--you had a kunai to your eye. I tied you down to make sure you weren't going to attack me when you woke. I had to be certain you weren't under a jutsus."

"I'm not," he croaked.

Rin didn't untie him. "What were you doing?"

"Let me up."

"In a minute," Rin said calmly. He was pulling harder now. He was going to have bruises. "What were you doing?"

"You don't understand," he said in a near-whisper.

"I know," Rin agreed. "So tell me. What were you doing?"

Kakashi closed his eyes, clenched them until his eyebrows drew down. "Obito hates me."

"Obito--" panic flooded her. She pushed it down. Dear lord, don't let him be gone. Don't let Kakashi have lost his mind. "Kakashi," she said calmly. "Obito's dead."

"I know that!" Kakashi yelled, then started to shake, his breath hitching in his chest. "Rin . . . it hurts."

Her chakra flickered out again, along his. "What hurts?"

"Obito's eye. It hurts. I can't--I can't sleep and the pills they don't . . . they're not . . . Get it out!" His eyes opened reflexively, and he bit back a shout and closed them again. His body was as taut as a wire, so tight he looked like his muscles could shatter his bones.

Rin tried to ignore that. She moved to his head, hands hovering around his eyes. "I don't feel anything . . ."

"I know that!" Kakashi yelled again. His breath really was hitching now, coming in gasps and starts. "I've been to the medics and they say--they say--there's nothing wrong. They can't fix it. It's in my head," the last he said on a near-hysterical laugh, and then closed his mouth on the rest with a snap. His next words were quiet again. "But it hurts. And it's only getting worse. Obito hates me."

"Obito gave this to you," Rin said, still searching. There--a flux in his chakra. Something working harder than it should. Not near the eye; near the back of his brain. And his paths were worn; raw and angry and incredibly painful. She'd seen it from people who constantly channeled too much chakra. The pills suddenly made sense.

"How long has it been hurting?" she asked.

He was still trembling. "Always. It gets worse when I use the Sharingan. It's getting constantly worse the last weeks. The medical ninja said not to use it."

Chakra depletion. Sharingan eyes used chakra to see patterns, copy moves, and so on.

"Kakashi," Rin asked softly. "Do you trust me?"

He swallowed, then nodded.

"Keep your eyes closed." She reached over, untying his hands, then took one of the sheet pieces and tied it around his eyes. "Keep this on, all right?"

Kakashi nodded. He was still shaking.

Rin untied his feet, then threw a blanket over him. "And sleep. How long has it been since you slept?"

"Three days," he whispered.

Rin cringed. "Because it hurts?"

He nodded, curled on his side, blindfolded.

"All right." Rin sat down on the edge of the futon, mostly so he would know where she was. "Obito doesn't hate you. But you don't have Uchiha blood. I think--well, you can't turn it off, can you?"

He shook his head.

"I think it's burning out your chakra pathways. I think your body's straining to understand the information the Sharingan is giving you. I have to double check some things, but . . . well, I think if you just keep your eyes closed . . ." It seemed so simple, and it seemed so obvious that this would happen. They should have caught it earlier.

"Okay," Kakashi whispered. Just like that. Agreeing to be blind for the foreseeable future.

He had to be in pain.

"You were going to cut it out?" Rin asked softly. Her stomach turned.

"I didn't know what else to do."

"Get help, idiot!" she shouted.

Kakashi flinched. "The medic said it couldn't be helped . . ."

Rin was going to find that ninja and kill him. Slowly. She kicked herself for not seeing the signs, but . . . well, with Sensei dead she'd been spending more time at the hospital and less time with Kakashi.

Rin brushed Kakashi's hair away from his forehead, ignoring when he pulled back slightly. "I'm going to talk to some people. But I think just keeping it closed will help. Just to let your body rest. At least for now."

Kakashi only nodded.


Kakashi sat over the tiny morning fire, cradling a mug of tea and wishing the birds would just shut up. His head was pounding. He'd drawn his forehead protector back down over his eye, but even that wasn't enough. And to make matters worse, he'd dreamt about Obito all night long.

Iruka staggered out of their shared tent, made it as far as a bush, and vomited. Kakashi wished he would please vomit just a little bit quieter.

Raidou whimpered and clutched his stomach. Genma just patted the head that was in his lap, smoothing a finger over the shiny, pulled scars across the other man's nose.

Even Asuma was quiet, a rag soaked in the stream laid over his head.

Iruka staggered closer, settling himself gingerly on the log next to Kakashi. "Who thought that was a good idea?" he practically whispered, taking deep breaths through his mouth.


Iruka went pale and lurched up, making for the bush again.

"Gai!" Raidou shouted, then clutched his head and whined, "make it stop . . ."

Genma threw a kunai at Gai.

"Why the long faces this morning?" Gai asked, ducking. "It's a beautiful day! The birds are singing, the land is fresh, the sun is up!"

"How can you have had all those drinks," Asuma groaned, "and not feel it?"

"A strong constitution!" Gai announced, chest out and fists on hips. The light, which hadn't quite made it through the trees all morning, suddenly shot through several branches and glinted off his teeth.

"I'm going to bash your strong constitution right up your backside," Genma growled.

"Gai, why don't you find us something to eat?" Kakashi suggested mildly, carefully balancing his head on the end of his neck. He'd never realized how long and wobbly necks were before.

"I shall do just that!" Gai announced, heading back out. He was still talking, but no one paid attention.

"Somehow," Iruka whined, "I always forget this part of camping."

Asuma only grunted.


Chapter Fifteen

Kakashi hesitated at Iruka's doorway.


He could pick the lock, he supposed. Instead, he went around to the window, placed both hands flat against the glass, and pushed up.

It was open.

He climbed in, bringing grocery bags with him, then closed it again. And locked it, just for good measure. Silly to lock a door and leave the window open. Of course, in a ninja village it seemed silly to lock the doors, period.

Kakashi took the bags into the kitchen, walking quietly through the empty apartment. It seemed much more lifeless when Iruka wasn't here, but it was still friendlier than his place. (He had gone out and bought kitchen magnets. He kept trying to put them up, but they always looked so disorderly. So he'd gone back out and bought all of the exact same design, then lined them up along the top of his fridge. That had been more acceptable.)

Iruka's magnets were all different shapes and sizes, pinning notes and photos and drawings to the refrigerator. There was even a pamphlet about the school fair, and several newspaper clippings. Kakashi set the bags down and studied the clippings. One was on a child who'd won some sort of achievement award. Kakashi could only assume it was a former student. Another was Hayate's death announcement, and the article that followed it up. A third was old, yellowed at the edges. A listing of all the people who had died by the fox.

Kakashi studied it, and finally found Iruka's father. His mother wasn't listed, but another clipping was of her death in the hospital, a week later. There was a picture, too. He pulled it from under the magnet and studied it.

Iruka had her nose and eyes.

Kakashi put it back, and only then saw the picture half hidden. He stopped, head cocked, studying it.

It was him. Looking rather bored and unimpressed with the world, and he thought he recognized it as a political function. Kakashi smiled slightly, and turned to making dinner.

It was another hour before Iruka got home. Kakashi heard the door click, and then silence. Probably the Chuunin realizing someone was there. He poked his head around the corner of the kitchen and waved, smiling brightly. "Yo, Iruka."

Iruka looked confused, his arms full of papers. He toed off his sandals. "Kakashi? What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

"Window," Kakashi said, pointing. "And I thought you might want dinner . . ." Iruka was still frowning. That wasn't good.

Then the Chuunin sighed and set down his stack of papers, rubbing his scar. "Thank you. I'd love dinner. But maybe next time, warn me?"

Kakashi smiled and nodded. "How was the first day of school?"

Iruka groaned. "Konohamaru is in my class. He's spoiled, ill-behaved, and worse than Naruto ever was."

Kakashi cringed.

"Let's please talk about something else."


Iruka was full, and warm, and slightly sleepy. He had a stack of papers to look at before he went to bed, but couldn't seem to bring himself to care. He had a voice in the back of his head that was nattering on about Kakashi thinking this was a date, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that, either. Kakashi could be an ass, but everyone had problems. And, Iruka hated to admit it, he'd missed the Jounin. As insane as it was, and as little sense as it made to him, he liked having Kakashi around.

He rubbed his toes and watched Kakashi in his kitchen, washing dishes quickly and setting them in the drying rack. Iruka would have left them for the night, probably until the next night, when he needed them. At least this way he didn't have to worry about it.

Eventually, Kakashi dried his hands and walked out into the main room, at ease. "You liked dinner?" he asked, though Iruka guessed he already knew the answer.

"Dinner was excellent. I think I ate too much." He dug his thumb into the arch of his foot, trying to make it stop hurting. He'd spent most of the day on his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the blackboard. It was a change from the mission office, where he had sat most of the time.

Kakashi walked closer, hands in his pockets, and knelt in front of the couch. Carefully, he took one of Iruka's feet and placed it on his bent knee. Iruka sighed happily, curled on the couch, and let Kakashi massage.

"You really care about your students, don't you?" Kakashi said softly, head bent over his task.

Iruka reach out to touch the messy silver hair, then paused. Finally, he let strands drift through his fingers. "I do. It's my job to make sure they can survive as Genins. My job to make sure our village stays strong." Then he realized how conceited that sounded, and blushed. "Well, my job and of course that of the other senseis and squad leaders."

Kakashi's fingers hit a knot and kneaded it out smoothly, sending tingles up Iruka's leg. "You know them well?"

He still could only see the top of the Jounin's head. "My students? Most of them. Maybe later, after they've graduated, I'll start forgetting names and faces. I've only been doing this for a short while, compared to some of the other teachers."

Kakashi hmm'ed. He reached the pad of Iruka's foot and pressed, sliding fingers along toes, drawing out the joints and loosening the muscles.

Iruka almost groaned.

Kakashi set that foot down and picked up the other one, shifting his position slightly. Putting Iruka's foot on his thigh, he started the process over again. "You must hate me."

The words were so quiet, it took Iruka a moment realize what he'd said. "Hate you?" he asked finally. "Why?"

Kakashi's head remained bent over his task. "I lost your students."

Iruka could only stare. "Kakashi--"

"Jiraiya had to take Naruto away from the village. I ignored Sakura, and now she's training with the Hokage, and Sasuke--well, I failed him completely. He was so like me, I thought--" he bit off the rest, then shook his head slightly. "I was wrong."

"Kakashi," Iruka said again, threading his fingers through silver hair. He started to say none of it was Kakashi's fault, but the Jounin wouldn't believe that. Instead, he said, "Jiraiya-sama has more experience dealing with boys like Naruto. Sakura isn't a fighter; she's better off with Tsunade-sama. And Sasuke . . . was troubled. There's no telling how he would have turned out with another sensei. But that was his choice, not your fault."

Kakashi had stopped moving. Slowly, he started to massage again. "Hmm."

Iruka petted his head, not sure what else to do.

A tapping broke the silence. Iruka frowned and started to look around, only to realize that Kakashi was looking intently at the window. Iruka turned. A dove sat at the sill, peering in.

The Jounin rose, all grace and lean lines. "I have to go." He put his hands in his pockets, and looked down at Iruka.

For a moment, Iruka thought he saw an apology in that one blue eye. "Go," he said with a smile. The next moment Kakashi was out the window and gone into the dark. Iruka sighed and picked up his stack of papers. He had work to do anyway.


It was only the third day of school, and already he had parents in his office, wanting to know why their children were on detention. Some of them wanted to know so they could talk to their children, but others just wanted to argue.

Iruka dealt with them the same way he dealt with their offspring; a smile, firm resolve, and the knowledge that He Was Right.

Of course, he could understand why the parents were upset. After all, it wasn't often that the entire class got detention. He thought a paint war and attacking their sensei was reason enough.

In fact, his skin was starting to stiffen with paint. His hair was crusty, and his clothing itched. It made him feel only slightly better to know that his students were in a stuffy little room, and while he could go home and change, they were stuck for another hour.

Iruka saw the last parent out his door, then crammed all his paperwork into a satchel and slung it over one shoulder.

He was in the hall when he saw Genma lounging toward him, senbon still in his mouth.

"Some day," Iruka pointed out, "you're going to trip and fall and kill yourself with that thing."

"And if I tripped and fell that easily, I deserve to die," Genma replied cheerfully. "Kakashi's back."

Iruka's heart started pounding. The Jounin had left the village the same night he'd left Iruka's apartment, and no one had heard from him since. Iruka had been trying not to worry. "Is he--?"

"At his place."

Iruka smiled. "Thank you, Genma."

Genma snorted and continued down the hall.

Iruka tried to keep himself to a walk, but by the time he hit the doors he was jogging, and when he got halfway down the street he broke into a run. He couldn't help it.

He made it to Kakashi's apartment in just a few minutes, and paused long enough to bang on the door before opening it and walking inside. He could see the reflection in the bathroom mirror; could see Kakashi inside, shirtless, dabbing antiseptic on a scratch.

Iruka dropped his things and walked over quickly. Kakashi's gaze came up as he neared, and the man smiled, eye creasing above the mask.

"You're all right?" Iruka asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Fine," Kakashi said. He sounded bone-weary.

Iruka sidled into the bathroom, squeezing between Kakashi and the sink. Silently, he jumped up to sit on it, then took the antiseptic Kakashi was using and poured some on a cotton ball sitting nearby. "You're a mess."

Kakashi smiled ruefully. "Had to hide in a thorn thicket."

Iruka cringed. "A thorn thicket? What were you doing?" He didn't even know of any thorn thickets nearby . . .

Kakashi was silent. Iruka looked up. The man was very solemn. "I can't tell you that," Kakashi said quietly, an apology in his single visible eye.

Iruka nodded and returned to his work. Of course Kakashi couldn't tell him that. Any missions important enough to send the Copy Ninja on at the last minute were probably high ranking missions.

He worked on cleaning the man up, putting small bandages over scratches that were still bleeding sluggishly. Nothing was terribly deep, and most of it would heal within a few days. None if it really needed first aid. But somehow, he couldn't make himself stop.

Surely Kakashi could bandage himself. He had been doing it for a frightening number of years. But the Jounin was slouched back against the wall, not protesting, and--it was a relief to see him alive and whole.

After a little while, Kakashi smiled slightly. "You entering a fashion show?"

Iruka looked at him, confused. "What?"

Kakashi reached out and picked up a lock of paint-crusted hair.

It wasn't until then that Iruka remembered how he looked. "Oh," he said, feeling his cheeks heat. "My students . . . it's complicated."

Kakashi had taken a damp cloth and was rubbing at Iruka's neck, stepping closer as he did so. "Paint's toxic," he said quietly.

"Not in these doses," Iruka snorted. He looked over the broad expanse of chest in front of him, searching for any more scratches. There weren't any--at least, none that needed attention. His eyes lingered, drawn toward Kakashi's collarbone. There was a hitch in the smooth bone; broken some time before. Kakashi was nearly hairless, and scarred skin worked over his muscles like silk. He was so close, peeling and scrubbing pain off Iruka, that the Chuunin could smell him. He smelled like pine and soap and warmth, and he radiated heat.

"Lift your chin," Kakashi said quietly.

Iruka did so, shivering when a wet cloth ran up his neck, followed by careful fingenails scratching lightly to get the paint off. Sitting, he was shorter than Kakashi was standing. Not by much, but--well, with his head tilted up . . . he closed his eyes so he didn't have to look at Kakashi, inches away. Closed his eyes and could feel the man's hands on his skin, warm and callused. Drifting over his neck, across his shoulder. He realized his hands were still on Kakashi, too, and let them slide slightly. Down the slim waist, over slender muscles, back up across his chest.

Iruka sensed the Jounin move closer, and opened his eyes.

The man's head was beside his, hands on his waist. Kakashi pulled, and Iruka slipped off the counter, landing on his feet, and suddenly they were of a height again. Of a height, and chest-to-chest, Kakashi's breath warm in his ear. He felt the man's nose nuzzle at his neck, hands sliding around his back.

Iruka broke out in goosebumps. Tentatively, he kissed the bump where Kakashi's collarbone met with his shoulder. Hands slid up his spine, cloth still in the way, and then back down over his ribs. He shivered when Kakashi breathed in his ear, feeling it curl in his stomach. He rubbed his thumbs over the muscle caps on the Jounin's shoulders, felt the other man tighten in response, then slid his hands down his chest, over soft skin and ridges of scars and hit--something wet.

Iruka pulled back. Kakashi did, too, more out of surprise than anything. Iruka barked a laugh and rubbed at the splash of yellow paint on Kakashi's skin, blushing self-consciously as he did so. "I'm getting you covered in paint."

"It's not toxic at these doses," Kakashi said, shifting closer, one of his legs sliding alongside one of Iruka's.

Iruka swallowed. "I should go shower."

"I have a shower here."

"I--" he was suddenly nervous. He pulled back again, smiling apologetically. "I have to be up early tomorrow," was all he could think of. They weren't supposed to be dating. Right? Right. They were just friends. They were friends until Kakashi figured out how to make friends.

Even though Iruka had missed the Jounin something fierce.

Kakashi gave him a look he couldn't interpret, and stepped away. "All right."

Iruka slid out of the bathroom, leaving streaks of paint on the counter. "Oh--geez, sorry," he said, watching Kakashi start to rub them off.

"It's all right," Kakashi said again.

"I--I just--" this wasn't working. Iruka turned toward the door, then turned back. Kakashi was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, pants low on his hips, barefoot and bare chested. He lifted one hand, bracing it on the wall. Iruka licked his lips and swallowed. Pale and battle-scarred, the man looked like some sort of warrior diety. Iruka shook his head. That was stupid, and cliche, and worthy only of one of those ridiculous Icha Icha books Kakashi liked so much.

He was also aware, suddenly, of how utterly goofy he looked, covered in paint, his hair stiffened and his clothes spattered. He felt himself blushing again.

Kakashi raised one eyebrow.

"I have to go." He turned and fled out the door, then froze on the communal porch. He'd forgotten his satchel. For a moment, he debated leaving it. But it had things he needed for the morning, and--damn. Iruka turned and bounded back up to the door, opening it and nearly running into Kakashi, who was holding it in one hand.

"Oh," Iruka said, blushing again. "Um. Thank you." He reached out to take it, and Kakashi pulled it back.

Iruka scowled. Then the Jounin leaned forward, wrapping his free hand around Iruka's neck, his mouth beside the Chuunin's ear. Iruka went very still. "It's okay," Kakashi murmured, a smile in his voice. Then he kissed the delicate skin just under a paint-smeared jaw. A brief meeting of mouth and skin, cloth between them, but--Iruka shivered.

Kakashi released him and stepped back, offering the satchel.

Iruka took it, blushing brightly. He smiled hesitantly and scratched the back of his head. "Um. Maybe--maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"

Kakashi smiled slightly and nodded.

Iruka nodded back. "All right. Okay. Then." He laughed and stepped away, nearly falling off the single stair. He laughed nervously at that too, then slung his satchel over his shoulder and started down the street.

He looked back once, and saw Kakashi still standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, lamplight turning his skin a warm gold. Iruka smiled and kept going.


The two of them stood, panting, bodies littered around them.

Kakashi glanced up at the other ANBU--thirty, to Kakashi's nineteen--and smiled.

The man smiled back.

All the enemy dead. The hostage rescued and returned. The base of the missing ninja emptied, the men inside killed. It hadn't been an easy task, by any means, but it was over.

Kakashi stood, hands in his lower back, stretching. Then he pulled off the ANBU mask and dropped it in a shadow, making a mental note to get it later. Right now, he needed the air on what was showing of his face.

He walked into the hide-out, looking around cautiously. All the ninja were accounted for, but one never knew who else might be lurking.

The place was empty, though. Filled only a bit more when his ANBU partner entered, chakra flaring as the man looked for traps.

There must have been nothing. Silence reigned, rather than a warning.

Kakashi felt the ANBU step up to him, and turned his head slightly.

"How many missions?" the man asked. He, too, had shed his mask, showing plain brown eyes and scruffy brown hair.

"Enough," Kakashi answered. Truthfully, he'd lost count. He'd done it almost spitefully, knowing the other ANBU counted and compared, and knowing it would frustrate them that he didn't compete.

He was better than they were.

The man stepped closer, and Kakashi turned, stepping back.

"Relax," the man snorted. But he stepped forward again. Kakashi held his ground, eyes narrowed, already cataloging all the ways he could take the man down.

Then the ninja kissed him.

He didn't react at first, stunned into stillness. The man pressed, and Kakashi fell back, coming up against a wall. There were hands on him and--oh, okay, that felt good. He swallowed and started kissing back, whatever he could reach. The man's hands were at his shirt, pulling both that and the vest off in one fell swoop, running over very sensitive skin. Kaksahi bit back a groan as the adrenaline from the fight shifted into an entirely different sort of adrenaline, helped along by hormones.

He'd only done this once before, and that hadn't been in the greatest circumstances. The ANBU didn't seem to mind, stripping them both of clothes, his hands all over and--good grief, but that felt nice.

Kakashi bit down on the man's shoulder, got an answering growl in return, and much more careful teeth on his neck.

This sort of after-fight adrenaline he could deal with.

Chapter Sixteen

"I heard something interesting about your sensei," Ino said, smiling wickedly.

Sakura frowned, balancing her books as she headed home. "What?"

"Your sensei and Iruka-sensei are dating."

Sakura nearly dropped her books, scrambling to keep them upright. "Tsunade-sama and--"

"No, idiot!" Ino snapped. "Kakashi-san and Iruka-sensei!"

Sakura lost her books. "What?" she yelped. "Where did you hear that! You'd better not be lying, Ino!" she shouted, waving a threatening fist in the other girl's face.

Ino only smirked. "I overheard Asuma-sensei and Kurenai-san talking. Iruka and Kakashi are dating."

That couldn't possibly be right. Neither of them seemed very girl-like. At least, not from what Sakura could remember. "I don't think Iruka's a pervert," she said tartly, "and Kakashi-sensei is a pervert, but not that type."

Ino only smirked.

Sakura glared at her. "Help me with my books, Ino-pig."

Ino sniffed. "Only because you're too weak to help yourself," she shot back, stooping to help Sakura gather her things.

Sakura thought about what Ino had said all the way home. Kakashi-sensei wasn't a pervert. Not like that. And Iruka-sensei certainly wasn't any kind of pervert. Ino had to be wrong.

But Sakura headed toward Kakashi's apartment, just in case. Iruka was out for the day--his class had gone outside the village on a field trip--but if Kakashi-sensei was home, certainly she could find out what was going on.

She knocked on the door and waited impatiently.

Eventually he answered, face masked, Icha Icha Paradise in one hand, eye half-lidded and his entire stance screaming, 'Bored.' "Yo," he said.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura chirped. Her brain stalled. She couldn?Äôt just come out and ask him. "I thought we could talk! It's been so long since I've seen you!"

He stared at her. Then, finally, he stepped out of his apartment and gestured to a chair on the porch, taking the one opposite.

Sakura sat primly, glad when he tucked his book back into his pocket. He didn't offer tea, but that didn't surprise her. Kakashi-sensei wasn't the most polite of people.

He stared at her, bored. She fidgeted. "So," she said, falsely bright, "I hear you're doing missions."

He just watched her.

"That's nice. I mean, you're a good Jounin and all . . ."

He looked even more unimpressed. "Yes. Good."

Sakura could see his hand inching toward the pocket where his book was. She had to act fast. "I hear you're training with Iruka-sensei now," she blurted out.

The hand stopped inching, and he looked at her. "Oh?"

"Is it true?"

"We're not training."

She sighed. He said nothing else. This was not going as well as she'd hoped. On the other hand, he didn't seem anymore girl-like than he ever had. If it was a romance, shouldn't he be looking dreamy and sighing constantly?


"Stay together," Iruka barked, catching a rugrat by the back of his shirt before he could dart off into the forest. "Now, who can find an edible plant?"

Half a dozen children squealed. Iruka kept a close eye on Konohamaru and his troupe, knowing they would be the ones to try to vanish.

He was supposed to have a teaching apprentice to help him today, but the man had taken a child off to go the bathroom and still hadn't returned. The coward.

"How about this one, Sensei?" a pretty little girl yelled.

Iruka cringed. "That's poison ivy. Don't touch anything if you're not sure what it is. And don't scratch." There was a parent he was going to have to answer to.

"This is edible, right Sensei?" one of Konohamaru's gang--the girl--yelled.

"Sure is!" Konohamaru said, and bit down on the green that was sticking between her fingers. She squealed and laughed while the boy chewed vigorously.

Iruka rubbed his scar. "No, that's not edible. It'll make you sick."

Konohamaru froze. Then he spat the plant out, bellowing about how he was going to die and it was all Sensei's fault. He even tried to wipe off his tongue on a tree.

"Konohamaru," Iruka shouted, "cut that out! You're not going to die!"

"Sensei . . . " a child said quietly.

"Just a moment, Kieko," he answered without looking, already walking toward Konohamaru. Why did he always get the troublesome children? It was payback from the other teachers for his misspent youth, he was sure.

"Sensei . . . " the same little girl said again, louder this time.

"Not now, Kieko," Iruka barked, grabbing Konohamaru just as the boy tried to wipe his tongue with a leaf. Where was his TA? "That's poisonous, too," Iruka muttered, grabbing the plant and tossing it to the ground.

"Sensei!" Kieko shouted.

"What?" Iruka snapped, whipping around.

He froze.

A man stood above the tiny girl, arms folded over his chest, his face a mess of scars. Iruka didn't recognize him. He did recognize the line etched through the forehead protector.

Missing ninja.

Iruka ran forward, yanking Konohamaru with him, letting the boy go in the middle of the pack. Drawing two kunai, he hurled them at the intruder. While the man blocked, Iruka grabbed Kieko and hauled her away, spinning to put his body between the ninja and the girl.

Someone laughed. He looked up, following the sound of the voice, and saw another ninja in the tree.

And another stepping out from behind a massive trunk. And more. Two women and three men, all told, scattered through the forest, in a circle around his little class.

"Everyone come here," Iruka said, as calmly and firmly as he could.

The children obeyed without question, congregating around him tightly.

Iruka turned back to the first man, back straight, meeting his scar-twisted eyes. "What do you want?"

"Konoha's youth," the man laughed. "This is the next generation of ninja, right? Konoha would pay dearly to have them back, mostly alive." He smiled, showing rows of sharpened teeth. "That's all I want."

One of the children started crying.

Iruka glanced around the group, sizing them up. It was unlikely they were Jounin, but there were five of them and one of him, and they had no reason to keep the children alive. If he could get them alone--

"All of you, follow her," the ninja said, pointing to the woman in the tree. The woman jumped down and started to walk.

Each and every child looked up at Iruka, waiting for his orders. He almost told them to scatter. If they ran fast enough, and he was able to unleash enough weapons at the enemy, maybe he could distract them long enough to let the kids escape.


He had three shuriken and five kunai. There were five missing ninja, all at least veteran Chuunin, from the way they moved.

The children would be slaughtered.

He looked down at them, eyes focusing. He could feel the leader's gaze boring into his back, waiting for him to do something stupid. The children looked like they were about to fall apart, beginning to panic.

"All right, then," he said cheerfully, clapping his hands together. "Time for organization training! Everyone take the hand of the person next to you, and in a single-file line follow the ninja woman!"

The children sniffled and wiped at noses. It was Konohamaru who grabbed one of his friends and started marching resolutely toward their captors. Soon twenty-nine little children were marching in a line, Iruka following at the back, watching as missing ninja flitted through the trees on either side of them. He didn't look back at the leader. He tried not to think about his missing student and teaching apprentice.

"Well done," the man snorted, walking up close.

Iruka debated killing him then. He had a kunai near his hand, if he grabbed it and twisted, dropped to one knee to avoid the shuriken that would undoubtedly come from the man, and jabbed upward--

Another ninja fell to the ground on his other side.

"Tell the children to keep going," the leader said quietly. "We'll catch up."

Iruka took a deep breath. "All right, then, students! Keep following that woman! This is an exercise in--" what? "--obeying orders! I want you to follow her orders like she was your squad leader!"

They looked back at him fearfully, but he smiled and nodded and projected as much assurance as he could.

They wound out of sight among the trees. He stared after them, keenly aware of the ninja on either side. If he stretched his chakra, he could just make out another energy above.


"What?" Iruka yelped, turning to look at the head ninja.

The man smiled grimly. "We don't want you with your weapons, but we do want you controlling the kiddies. Strip."

Iruka hesitated. If he jabbed a kunai forward--the man behind would kill him. If he jabbed forward and kicked back, the one above--if he jabbed forward and kicked back, and flipped to one side--

The likelihood that it would work was slim to none.

"You do anything foolish, and your kids suffer," the ninja behind him said, breathing into his ear. "We just need them alive. Not whole."

Iruka swallowed and started to pull off his vest.


Shikamaru bolted up the stairs, nearly out of breath. He'd been there when the teaching apprentice and a student had come back, babbling something about missing ninja. The Hokage had sent him out instantly.

Kakashi was, luckily, at home. Sitting on the porch with Sakura, staring at each other silently.

Shikamaru slid to a stop, clutching the railing and staring at Kakashi. "Tsunade-sama urgently requests your assistance. Now."

Kakashi's eyes widened briefly, then he stood, bowed, and disappeared.

"What was that all about?" Sakura demanded.

Shikamaru collapsed in a chair, his job done for the moment. "The--the--guy came with news--" he panted. "Iruka's children have been taken hostage. Missing ninja."

Sakura paled. "Are they okay?"

Shikamura shrugged and stood, preparing to run again. They needed Inuzuka Tsume, one of the only other Jounin not out on a mission. "Have to go."

Sakura only nodded, and Shikamaru took off, flying over the railing and tearing down the street.

He had to hurry.


"I've sent my personal ANBU guard after Iruka's group," Tsunade said, staring out her window. "But we have other groups out today. They need to be brought back. There's no telling if this is localized or not."

"I'll go find Iruka's kids," Kakashi said, deceptively calm. "The ANBU can get the other groups."

"The ANBU are already gone," Tsunade barked. "Besides, I need your dog's nose to find the groups. Tsume-san will be looking for them, too. There are three--"

"I'll find Iruka," Kakashi said again, firmer this time.

"Damn it, Kakashi!" Tsunade shouted, banging her fist against her desk. Wood cracked. "I need you to help here! This is how you can help the most!"

He froze.

"You can help find Iruka when the others are safe," she said, quieter.

Stiffly, he bowed and left.


People were screaming outside. The fox was still on the loose. They were being slaughtered.

Inside the war council, the Fourth addressed those Jounin who could be pulled from the fighting. He looked haggard and old. Kakashi hung in the back corner, waiting.

"I have a plan to stop him," the Fourth said, the words slow and tired. His eyes were red from smoke and chakra use, but no worse than the rest of them.

Kakashi's head throbbed. It wasn't decapitating. Yet.

"I think it'll work, but--Kakashi, Rin, I need you to clear out the young ones. Anyone under sixteen. Take them to the school, put them in the basement. Keep them there."

Kakashi straightened, frowning. "Why?" He didn't point out that he and Rin were both under sixteen. They were Chuunin and Jounin, after all. They didn't count.

"I'm going to seal the demon, but it's going to take power. The fox will fight, and I don't want them hurt."

"All right. Wait until we get back, and--"

The Fourth's eyes flickered. He stood, beckoning to them.

Kakashi sidled forward slowly, Rin walking a bit faster. He had a bad feeling about this. Really bad. Anything big enough to need to clear people out . . .

"Kakashi, Rin, this is going to take a lot of power. I want you safe. Take the children and go. It's important, and there aren't many other people I trust to keep them there. They won't want to leave."

"I don't want to leave," Kakashi snapped. "I can help."

"Help when you get back."

He hesitated. "I can come back?"

"Once you make sure the children are safe. Yes. Come back. I'd love your help." The Fourth smiled softly, eyes sad.

Kakashi looked at Rin. She wouldn't meet his gaze. He looked back at the Fourth. "Don't do anything stupid," he muttered.

The Fourth looked pained, and put a hand on Kakashi's head. For once, the young Jounin didn't duck out. "Thank you. You're both growing up amazingly well. I'm very proud of you. Now, Kakashi--start getting them out of here. I'm going to fill Rin in on the plan, and she'll explain so you'll know as soon as you're done."

Kakashi eyed him. His sensei looked weary. Beyond tired, like he'd found the answer, and it was worse than anyone had guessed. "I'll be back soon," Kakashi promised.

The Fourth bowed. Kakashi returned it, and left.


Iruka knelt on the forest floor, head bent, a katana at his neck. Bark bit into the bare skin on his knees and palms, and he shivered, naked.

They were being very thorough with his clothing. He could have told them they'd found all the weapons, but doubted they'd believe him. He didn't carry too many things with the children around. Didn't want someone to get hurt.

The irony hadn't escaped him.

"All right," the leader said, kicking Iruka's underwear closer. "Dress. Hurry up."

The blade lifted off the delicate skin of the nape of his neck, and he shook his ponytail back down protectively. Iruka grabbed his briefs, pulling them on, glad to be covered up, then snatched up his pants and shoved his legs in.

"We'll send a ransom notice twenty-four hours from now. Don't expect to be saved," the leader said, glancing around.

He yanked his shirt on and reached for his vest. A foot stopped him.

"You don't need armor," the ninja said, exposing sharpened teeth with a smile. "I'm starting to think you don't trust us."

Iruka took a deep breath and straightened.

"He doesn't really need his shirt, either, does he?" a woman laughed. He glared at her over his shoulder.

"Oh, come on, it's a compliment," she said, grinning widely. "Such smooth skin . . ."

He gave her his best bored look, imitating Kakashi as much as possible.

Her smile vanished, eyebrows rising. "Move," she snapped, slapping him with the flat of her blade.

Iruka felt cloth rip on the sharpened edge, and started forward. He walked wordlessly through the forest, flanked by ninja.

He prayed his kids were safe.


Kakashi flew over the fallen tree, planting a hand and channeling chakra to give him an extra push.

Half a dozen dogs had raced off, searching for any scent of the other groups, and checking for any strange ninja scents. The mastif had caught a smell first, and Kakashi was racing after him. He had to bring back the children before he could go after Iruka. But if he got them back, there was nothing to stop him.

Iruka just had to hold on. Just wait.


Kakashi grabbed a Genin, hauled the boy away, over the barriers, away from the fighting. An explosion seared his back, but he kept going, running. He had to get the children safe, and then he could go back to his sensei and help. Only then could he help his most important person.

Rin was nowhere to be seen. Kakashi tossed the child to a young Chuunin, then headed back over the barriers. He crouched, the Sharingan spinning wildly. There--a burst of barely controlled chakra, dangerously close to the fox. He leaped, channeling energy to his legs, shoving away from the ground. The fox's head swiveled toward the girl, who was gathering her chakra as quickly as she could, but not quickly enough.

Kakashi slammed into her. No time for subtly. He felt teeth snap just behind him, felt the air of the bite, but no pain. He rolled and sprung up, girl tucked into his body, and ran.


Iruka stood in the cave, checking that the children were all right. Frightened, but not hurt.

"I guarded them while you were gone, Sensei," Konohamaru said solemnly, face pinched and arms folded over his little chest.

"Very brave of you, Konohamaru," Iruka said.

"Sensei! What happened to your clothes?"

They were muddy and disheveled, and half of his outfit was gone, buried in the forest.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Moegi said, concern sprawled across her voice and face.

"No, Moegi-chan. They just were looking for weapons. Remember, any time you take a hostage, you should always check them for weapons," Iruka said, trying to act like everything was normal.

The children nodded solemnly.

"Having fun teaching?" one of the women asked on a smirk.

Iruka shot a glare her way. "Who else can tell me what to do in a hostage situation?" he asked his kids, trying to distract them.

A boy in the back tentatively raised his hand.

"Yes, Akeno?"

"Do as your captors say?"

"Correct! Why?"

"Because Konoha doesn't leave their ninja behind, so you should stay alive until help comes," Konohamaru announced loudly.

"That's right," Iruka agreed, smiling brightly.

"So our Jounin are going to come and kick your butt!" Konohamaru added in a near-shout.

Iruka shoved him back and checked over his shoulder.

The woman was fingering a kunai and watching them thoughtfully.

"You also shouldn't antagonize your captors," Iruka snapped. He could only do so much. The cave was wide; if he could cram all the children into a corner, protected on three sides, he could keep the fourth safe. But the ninja were smart; they'd pushed the group against the back wall, so there were three open sides--two of which Iruka couldn't shield.

"Sorry, Sensei," Konohamaru murmured.

"Better keep the rugrats quiet, Sensei," the woman mocked. "'Cause if you can't, we will."

One of the children started to cry. "Shh," Konohamaru whispered. "Ninja have to be brave."

"I want to go home," a boy whimpered.

"Soon," Iruka promised. "Just be quiet and still, and our Jounin will come." He had to believe that.

"Shut him up," the woman growled.

Iruka glared. "If you'd stop threatening them, it would help." He glanced around the cave, at his three guards. The man was gone from the opening, he realized suddenly. That left only the woman between them and freedom, and a man to his right.

"I have to go pee," a boy whispered loudly.

"Not now, Akeno," Iruka muttered.

"Senseiiiii . . . really badly . . . "

He glanced down at the child, then up at the woman, eyebrows raised.

She snorted. "You stay there, Sensei. Kid, you can piss there." She gestured with her kunai to a spot just outside the cave and around the corner.

The boy looked pitifully at Iruka, who could only smile and hope everything would be all right, and then the child was moving out of the group.

"I have to pee, too!" Konohamaru announced.

Iruka grabbed the boy's arm. "Not now," he said sternly.

"I sure as hell don't want him pissing in here," the woman barked.

Iruka doubted very much Konohamaru had to go to the bathroom. His face was set in a determined appearance, and his little hands were fisted at his sides. Iruka knew that expression.

"Konohamaru," Iruka murmured, "don't do anything. Just go to the bathroom, and come back. Do you understand me?"

Konohamaru looked at him steadily, and put his little hand in Iruka's bigger one. "It's okay, Sensei," he said, and broke away.

He left a shuriken behind. Crap. Crap crap crap. Iruka's stomach tightened into knots, even as his fingers closed around the weapon. He watched the two boys walk around the corner, out of his sight but still in the woman's.

She watched them with half an eye, leaning back against the cave wall, foot propped up. Iruka watched her, waiting, praying.

She straightened. "Hey! Rugrat! No farther!"

Iruka tensed.

"You little shithead!" she yelled, jumping forward with a burst of speed.

Iruka twisted, hurling the shuriken at the other guard, and leaped after the woman.

Don't kill the boys, he prayed, a mantra running through his mind. Don't kill the boys.

A child screamed.

No. He rounded the corner to see Akeno on the ground, clutching a bloody thigh. Konohamaru was nowhere to be seen, but he'd left tracks. The woman was gone as well, after him, and two other ninja who had been absent were suddenly there.

They were closing in fast, kunai and shuriken flying toward him. Iruka twisted and ducked, felt the skin on his arm part from something too sharp to even hurt. He jumped sideways, into a bush, trying to follow the child.

"Konohamaru!" he bellowed, tucking and rolling with his jump, trying to put a tree between him and the missing ninja. "You're putting your team in danger! FREEZE!" He could only pray that it would be enough, that Konohamaru would listen and they wouldn't kill him or--please no--the others in the cave in retaliation.

Iruka scrambled to his feet and raced down Konohamaru's path, jumping over bushes and twisting around trees. His speed was good, he knew, so if he could just stay ahead of the missing ninja--

He saw them, the woman perched in a tree and aiming while Konohamaru kept running, tiny legs speeding him through the forest. Iruka felt the kunai behind him and twisted. They thunked into the ground and he kept going, only barely ahead of the ninja, no time--no time at all because she was throwing--

He barreled into the boy, dragging him down to the ground as he felt the shuriken meant for Konohamaru's head dig into his back. Iruka screamed as blades tore through flesh and muscle, gouging wetly into his body. Eyes closed, he let himself drop to his side, skidding through forest derbis, trying not to land on the shuriken and trying not to smash the boy.

He had no armor. His arms tightened around the child and he twisted them both, around and up, feeling the metal tear skin and muscle further with the movement. But he had to block anything more, keep Konohamaru safe. That was his job.

His eyes still closed, he half expected to feel more weapons rip into his body. Pain was spreading over his back, burning through his lungs with every breath. Konohamaru started to squirm and Iruka tightened his hold.

"Sensei! I could have escaped!"

"Don't move," Iruka murmured, trying to push the pain to the back of his mind. "Just don't move."

Something in his tone got through to the boy. He froze.

There were several thumps, and the sound of someone panting.

"Bastard's fast," the man muttered.

"Give up the kid." The woman.

Iruka shook his head and curled tighter over Konohamaru. "No. I'll take him back."

"Give him to me so I can cut his fucking legs off."

Iruka's arms tightened. He heard Konohamaru's breath hitch as he nearly crushed the boy, but didn't loosen his grip. "No."

"Son of a bitch," someone muttered. Then Iruka felt a hand near his spine and braced. Fingers grabbed the shuriken still sticking out of his flesh and yanked.

He couldn't stop the cry, but didn't let go of his student.

He felt the tip of a katana at his ear. "Let him go."

"No," Iruka said again, through a shout as the man ripped another shuriken out. "Kill me, and then you'll have no way to control them, and Konoha won't pay you for dead children."

He was shaking, in shock and pain. Konohamaru made a little noise, as if just realizing what sort of danger they were in.

"Shit," the woman muttered. "Shit. Get up. Take him back to the cave."

Iruka waited for the last shuriken to be yanked out, then he stood slowly, still holding Konohamaru, and started the long trek back.

The three ninja stayed around him, watching him warily. The fourth, he guessed, had stayed to guard the others, and he hoped viciously that the fifth one--the one he'd thrown the shuriken at--was dead.

He prayed the children were safe.



The missing ninja had done a good job of healing him, the medics said. They gave him a blood transfusion and Tsunade herself finished the job--something Iruka had been, thankfully, too woozy to feel self-conscious about. He was ordered to rest for a few days, but he would be fine.

Iruka asked after his kids, and was told they were safe. All heading back to their respective homes. Shaken, but unharmed. The one injured boy had already been healed; it hadn't been bad. Shizune had seen to him.

Iruka sat on the hospital bed, tired beyond belief after a very long day, and contemplated going home. It seemed terribly far.

The door slammed open while he was still sitting there, and he jumped, looking up.

Kakashi was already striding in, single blue eye sweeping over him assessingly. "You're all right?"

Iruka nodded, offering a hesitant smile. "I'm fine," he started to say, and then Kakashi was on him, hands on his face, down his neck, over his arms as if checking for himself.

"I'm all right. Really," Iruka said.

"They said you were stabbed."

"Three shuriken, but--" Iruka stopped talking because Kakashi had yanked him to his feet, unbuttoning his shirt. "Kakashi!" he snapped, unable to really put the force behind it he wanted.

"Where?" the Jounin demanded.

Iruka hesitated, but was too tired to argue. "My back." His shirt was yanked off, and Kakashi spun him, inspecting the damage himself. "Ow," Iruka said quietly as fingers probed the tissue.

"That hurts?"

"Of course it hurts. It's only barely healed," Iruka snapped, grabbing his shirt and turning back around. "Are you quite done?"

Kakashi was inspecting him, gaze boring into his eyes as if he could read something there. "Why did you get hit?"

Iruka sighed. "I was protecting one of the children." He hadn't told anyone that that child had run off, putting them all in danger, and he wasn't going to start with Kakashi. Let them all think that the missing ninja were just vile enough to try to hurt a boy for no reason.

Kakashi's eye narrowed. Iruka looked back steadily. "You're not going to tell the rest," Kakashi said, the words not quite a question.

Iruka shook his head.

Kakashi took a deep breath. "All right. Come on."

Iruka frowned. "Come on? Where? I'm supposed to go home and sleep--"

"You can sleep at my place." Kakashi grabbed his wrist and pulled, yanking him inexorably toward the door.


"I'll make you dinner. Then you'll eat, and you'll be at my place, and you'll be safe."

"I'm safe now," Iruka protested, trying to go fast enough to keep up with Kakashi. The world was still spinning slightly, though, and he was certain that at any moment he was going to fall over.

"I'll keep you safer," Kakashi said, then seemed to realize Iruka's instability. He stopped and looked back. "Are you all right?"

"Blood loss, Kakashi," Iruka ground out. "I'm still a little woozy."

Kakashi stared at him for a moment, then grabbed him, swinging him up onto a strong back and heading out the door.

"I don't need to be carried," Iruka yelled, "I just need to walk slower!"

"Better this way," Kakashi said, and jumped for a rooftop.


Iruka leaned against the wall of the shower, letting water pour down on him. The pain was fading from his back as the muscles attached a bit more strongly. He was just tired.

"Are you all right?"

Iruka jumped, and glanced toward the door--not that he could see it, since there was a shower curtain in the way. Which was probably a good thing, since Kakashi sounded like he was in the room. "Go away," Iruka snarled.

The door closed.

Slowly, Iruka stood up and washed the rest of his blood from the ends of his hair, then turned off the water and peeked around the curtain, just to make sure Kakashi really wasn't there.

He wasn't, but he had left black pants and briefs on the toilet. Iruka dried off before putting them on, checking his wounds in the mirror.

They had already faded to scars, though they still looked remarkably fresh. It was a relief that the Hokage herself had come down to treat them, otherwise they would still be actual wounds. Not even their best medics could manage this.

Iruka opened the bathroom door and stepped out in a cloud of steam. "Do you have a sweatshirt?" he asked, feeling the ends of his hair drip water down his back. He pulled the pants up with one hand, but they just fell back around his hips. Kakashi was skinnier than he was, so these would have been huge on the Jounin; he suspected they were borrowed from a neighbor. A neighbor who was big, because these weren't staying up easily.

Kakashi looked up from the kitchen and froze for just a moment.

Iruka scowled and ran a hand through his wet hair self-consciously, feeling it spill around his shoulders. "What?" He couldn't look that bad.

"Nothing," Kakashi said, and walked to the closet. He opened it, fishing out a black shirt and handing it to Iruka. "How's your back?"

"Fine," Iruka muttered, but when Kakashi moved to check, he didn't stop the man. He waited, shirt in his hands, while careful fingers probed the new flesh. Finally, Kakashi moved away. "I told you," Iruka muttered, sliding the shirt on over his arms.

"At least Tsunade's good for something," Kakashi muttered back.

Iruka's eyes widened. "Tsunade-sama is the Hokage," he said, aghast. "You shouldn't talk about her like--"

"She had me finding children, Iruka!" Kakashi snapped. "Finding the idiot groups who were still in the forest when I should have been looking for you! You shouldn't go into the forest anymore."

Iruka stared. "You're kidding me," he said quietly, on a disbelieving laugh. "Because the forest is so dangerous, and we have missing ninja appear and kidnap us all the time."

Kakashi was stirring soup and didn't answer.

"Don't be ridiculous," Iruka muttered. "You were needed to find the kids. The ANBU found us."

"And maybe if I'd been there you wouldn?Äôt have been stabbed and nearly killed," Kakashi said bitterly.

"Kakashi--" Iruka stopped and frowned at the tense line of the man's back. The Jounin stopped stirring, hands braced on either side of the stove.

"I can't protect you if I?Äôm not there."

Iruka walked slowly forward, shirt hanging open--it was uncomfortably snug. "You don't need to protect me--"

Kakashi whipped around. "We shouldn't be friends anymore."

"What?" Iruka yelped.

"We shouldn?Äôt be friends. I don't want you dead, and--"

"Kakashi, listen to yourself!" Iruka yelled. "I'm not going to die because we're friends! You're being paranoid!"

Kakashi closed his eye tightly, still holding onto the sink behind him.

Iruka sighed and stepped closer, crowding the other man. He put his hand on Kakashi's face, hoping to get his attention.

Kakashi opened his uncovered eye and looked at him.

"I'm fine. Really."

Hands that were white from tension peeled off of the counter and rose, settling on either side of Iruka's jaw. It was then he realized Kakashi was shaking.

"I'm all right. I'm safe," Iruka repeated.

Kakashi closed his eye and leaned his forehead against Iruka's, breathing shaky. "I know. But I wasn't there."

"You can't always be there. You have to trust other people. The village is good. We protect each other."

Hands tightened in his hair, pulling slightly. Iruka didn't say anything. "You're all right?" Kakashi asked.

"I'm fine," Iruka said again.

Kakashi nodded wordlessly. "All right."


A/N: The hair-down Iruka? SO inspired by Devo's artwork. Check out Devolution (it's in the garage). So. Unbelieavebly. Hot. *drools*


Chapter Eighteen

They'd had dinner--soup, salad, and bread, and Kakashi had apologized for it not being better, even though it was delicious--and then they settled down on the floor, Kakashi at Iruka's back. Iruka had realized pretty quickly that he wasn't going home tonight. He'd never seen the Jounin touch anyone so much, as if making sure that Iruka really was alive, and not a figment of his imagination. The ninja had even stripped Iruka's shirt off, insisting he needed to check the scars again.

Iruka just let him. He liked the contact, and Kakashi seemed to need it.

"I like your hair down," Kakashi said once, threading fingers through it. "Soft."

Iruka smiled slightly. It was almost dry, heavy on his neck, and silky. He liked it best at this stage. "So where am I sleeping tonight?" he asked, glancing around. There wasn't much room in the tiny apartment; no couch, and only the one futon.

"There," Kakashi said, pointing to the bed.

Iruka eyed it. "Then where will you sleep?"

Kakashi shrugged. "On the floor."

"Why don't I sleep on the floor, and you can sleep in your bed?"

There was a horrified silence.

"I haven't vacuumed in three days," Kakashi said.

Iruka rolled his eyes. "Three whole days?" he teased, glancing back. Kakashi continued checking the fresh scars, like he'd been doing for nearly twenty minutes, as if afraid they might open up again. At Iruka's question he just nodded solemnly, apparently not realizing it wasn't a serious query.

Iruka laughed and leaned back into the other man's chest. He felt Kakashi stiffen, then relax slowly. A moment later arms wrapped around the Chuunin's waist, a head of silver hair coming down to nuzzle Iruka's neck. Iruka sighed happily. He could hear Kakashi's heart thumping under his skin, slow and comfortable.

"Why do you wear the forehead protector in your home?" he asked, looking up at the masked face.

Kakashi shrugged. "The Sharingan gives me a headache. I can't turn it off." Then he reached up and pulled the cloth off, setting it on the floor.

"Well, if it makes you hurt, leave it on," Iruka said with a frown.

Kakashi smiled. "It won't hurt just for a night."

Iruka kept his frown. "If you're sure . . ."

"I've lived with it for fifteen years. I?Äôm sure."

Iruka gave in and settled again, his skin prickling against Kakashi's shirt. He moved as the scars tingled. "Feels funny," he explained, when Kakashi made an inquisitive noise.

"It's going to feel funnier in a second, if you keep wiggling like that," Kakashi murmured.

Iruka frowned, started to say he didn't get it, and then saw Kakashi's face and both raised eyebrows. He realized how he was sitting--leaning back against the man's lap and chest--and blushed hotly. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing." Kakashi's voice was low.

Iruka hadn't thought it was possible, but his blush deepened. "You're terrible."

"That's not what other people tell me . . ."

Iruka snorted and tried to elbow the Jounin. Kakashi just moved, swiftly enough to block it and lock Iruka's arms in place. "That's better," he said smugly.

"Bastard," Iruka muttered, trying to yank free.

Kakashi only shifted his grip and held on, fingers strong around the younger man's wrists.

"Let me go," Iruka said, scowling.

"What's the magic word?"


Kakashi laughed softly, breath gusting against the shell of an ear. "I don't think so."

Iruka struggled again. Kakashi started to move, inching them both back until he was sitting against the wall, Iruka in his lap. "You asshole," Iruka groused, twisting his wrists to break Kakashi's hold.

Kakashi's hold didn't break. "That's definitely not the magic word."

"Who talks about magic words anymore, anyway? Mothers do that to little kids, not--" he stopped.

"Not what?"


"What?" Kakashi asked, sitting up slightly straighter. "What were you going to call me?"

"Nothing," Iruka ground out. "Would you let me go?"

"No. What were you going to say?"

Iruka felt himself start to blush again. "You're an ass."

"We're going to sit here until you tell me what you were going to say."

"Please let me go," Iruka said, giving in.

"Too late for the magic word. Besides, the magic word is 'salsa.'"

"What?" Iruka yelped, laughing. "The magic word can't be salsa! That makes no sense!"

"What were you going to say?"

Iruka blushed harder and fell silent. He wasn't going to say it. It was embarrassing. What if Kakashi didn't agree?

"What?" Kakashi breathed into his ear.

The bastard was teasing him. He was certain of it. Kakashi's pinkies moved, drifting up and down Iruka's bare skin. Iruka didn't squirm. He would not squirm. And damn it, he wasn't going to get turned on, either, because if he thought blushing was embarrassing, that was even worse.

He felt Kakashi's nose drift behind his earlobe. "What were you going to say?"

Crap. He was getting turned on, and in a minute Kakashi was going to know that, and--crap. "I was going to say," Iruka bit off, "'Mothers do that to little kids, not adults who are dating.'" He was pretty sure no one had ever died from blushing before, so he hoped when it happened to him he at least got an award for it.

"Dating? Is that what we're doing?" Kakashi was still speaking into his ear, breath warm against Iruka's skin.

"I don't know," Iruka said, managing not to stutter. "Are we?"

"Hmm. I'd like that."

His heart dropped out of his throat. He turned his head slightly, catching Kakashi out of the corner of his eye. The man turned too, nuzzling at his neck.

Iruka swallowed. "Kakashi?"


He wasn't sure what he was going to ask, so he just stayed silent. Kakashi nuzzled his throat and then around, warming the skin, lifting his hair.

"Will you let me go now?" Iruka asked quietly.

"No," Kakashi said into the nape of his neck. "I thought you were dead. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I'm not dead. I wasn't anywhere near being dead, and you can't exactly come to class with me," Iruka said, trying desperately not to think about how tight his pants were getting. He brought his knees up. "That would cause questions."

"Mmm." Kakashi didn't seem to care. He blew on Iruka's skin, making goosebumps.

"Kakashi . . ."


He bit his lip. He didn't know what to say. He shivered when Kakashi's pinkies shifted again, rubbing against his ribs. He turned his head, because at least he could kiss back, and saw mask.

He'd be damned if he was going to kiss cloth. "Take the mask off?" he asked quietly.

Kakashi froze.

Iruka's heart sank. "Kakashi, I?Äôm not kissing a mask," he said patiently, hoping. "Please. Take it off."

The grip on his wrists released, freeing him. He rolled forward, crouching, lust rapidly replaced by fright. The neurosis couldn't be this strong. Please, please it couldn't be this strong.

"I can't . . ." Kakashi said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. Then the eyes flickered up, filled with pain and confusion and a scary dollop of fear.

Iruka's heart sank. He stood slowly, nodding, and walked toward the door.

"Iruka--" Kakashi started, the word almost choked out.

Iruka paused. Outside, a dog howled. "It's all right," he said softly. He reached out and turned off the light. Blackness fell so completely he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

Everyone had neuroses. He had known this would be a strong one. "Take off the mask?" he asked into the dark, softly.

There was a hesitation, and then the sound of cloth being pulled away. Iruka made his way slowly back to Kakashi, for once glad that there was so little furniture to trip on. He knelt when he found the man, fingers on Kakashi's shoulders to guide him. He slid his hands down wiry arms, feeling the tremble beneath the shirt, and then, when he was on the floor, slid his hands back up to the Jounin's shoulders.

He hesitated there, afraid to push, but--

He brushed his fingers up Kakashi's neck, over his jawline, drifting over the man's mouth. His skin was damp from the moisture trapped by the mask, but mostly smooth. Iruka could feel a scar on one cheek, and suspected it was the continuation of the one over the Sharingan eye. Something thin trailed down the side of his neck. An old scar, cutting frighteningly close to the jugular.

Kakashi let him feel for several seconds before trapping his fingers and pulling them away. The Jounin's hands were still trembling. Iruka leaned forward and kissed him. After a moment, with a shaky breath, Kakashi kissed back.

Later, lying in a tangle of sheets and limbs, some vague part of Iruka wondered what had happened to their clothes, and how much of a mess they'd just made. Most of him really didn't care. All of him was rapidly drifting into sleep.

He woke a bit when Kakashi sprawled half over him, reaching out. Iruka turned his head and saw a black pile of clothing, barely a shape in the dark, the Jounin shaking something free. With a frown Iruka realized it was the mask.

He reached out with a sleepy hand and stopped the other man. "Don't," he said softly, holding Kakashi's forearm. Deep in the back of his mind, he wondered how bad the compulsion was, that Kakashi would feel the need to wear a mask to bed.

Most of him was too tired and sated to think about it much.

Kakashi hesitated, then completed the motion, bringing the mask to the futon. There, he paused again, and just set it on the nightstand rather than putting it on.

Iruka sighed happily and let himself go to sleep.


Kakashi stared in the mirror, peering at his face. He looked like his father. He looked like his entire family.

He rubbed away the dried blood on his lip, knowing his sensei would ask questions if he saw it. He didn't want to say that the Genins tried to beat him up, and he let them. That would only cause more questions.

His hands were shaking. He didn't want to look at himself. He couldn't not look. Ugly, and horrible, and--and--

He made a fist and smashed it into the mirror. The mirror was stronger than he was, though, and held. He wanted to scream at it. Slash his skin off so he looked nothing like that man that was his father. So people wouldn't hate him so much.

But that would cause questions.

He stumbled back, dropping onto his futon, and stared at the floor.

He would cover it up. That would work. He would cover his face, and no one would ever see him, and everything would be better. His sensei might ask questions, but--but--ninja used to cover their faces. He would say it was out of respect. Sensei would believe him.

Kakashi looked around, eyes finally falling on his bedsheet. That would do. He grabbed a kunai off the dresser and ripped into it, tearing off a corner. Once he had a long enough piece to wrap around his head he stood, walking back to the mirror.

He stared hard at his reflection. Then, slowly, he covered his face and tied the black cloth tight around his skull.

He never wanted to see himself again.


Post by Little_Sparrow (1,220 posts) See mini bio Level 12
This is a good story, a few spelling errors and so on, but if you look past that it is enjoyable.
Post by maria137b (1 posts) See mini bio Level 4
i know that why i'm posting it the past of kakashi is interesting
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